Ariel & Belle
by Crazy Cat Lady
Summary: Now re-edited and several thousand words longer. Hopefully whetting your appetite for the upcoming sequel! P.S Yes this is shoujo-ai.
1. Prologue

Woah 0_0 Recently my love of Ariel & Belle has been reignited, mostly thanks to the wonderful pics of XavierHaven at DeviantArt :) So now I'm planning a sequel. Before I could begin though I decided to revisit this; I hadn't read it since it was uploaded. And, woah. That bold does hurt the eyes 0.0 It wasn't intended that way, it was just the font I used on MS Word (Hey, it looked nice there.) So I am planning to upload it all again with minor edits, mostly just an unbolded font. But I will re-read and see if anything needs tweaking.

The sequel has been planned in my head, hopefully I'll have the first chappy up in the next week or so. I am also welcome to suggestions, anything in particular you'd like to see?

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters blah blah its a lesbian fairytale blah don't like don't read yada yada. ;)

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

**"A Mermaid's Wish"  
**

Many years ago, deep under the timeless oceanic waters of Northern Europe, there existed a glorious kingdom of merpeople, ruled over by a dignified and well respected but somewhat feared King. The King forbade any contact with humans—the collecting of human treasures, the reading of human literature, why, even surfacing to glance upon the human shore was not allowed, as the King deemed all humans to be barbaric, dangerous creatures devoid of any emotions whatsoever.

Of all the merpeople, the only one to actively disagree with the King's misanthropic sentiments was his own flesh and blood, his daughter; a mermaid princess.

Youngest of seven, she was the prettiest of the King's daughters, possessing a lovely nature to compliment her looks. She was also a renowned singer and amateur artist, the envy of most young mermaids alike.

However, the youngest mermaid princess had a fascination, some would say obsession, with the world above the waves—an interest in which her father disapproved greatly. In fact, unbeknownst to the King or to anyone else, this princesses' fondest dream was to actually be human herself, to live on the land amongst the humans, whom she thought were nowhere near as horrifying as her father preached.

Not long after her sixteenth birthday, the mermaid princess became so overwhelmed by her desire to become human that she sought out the notorious Witch of the Northern Seas, who dwelled alone not far from the merpeople's realm, within a creepy, foreboding cave. The mermaid princess took along with her all of her money and valuable possessions, hoping to exchange them for even just a short amount of time spent as a human.

This greedy beast of malice and magic, an obese squid-like creature, of course accepted the mermaid's plea, and arranged to meet the princess above the surface upon the nearest shore, just after sunset.

That very evening, the Witch of the Northern Seas upheld her end of the bargain, transforming the princesses' fin into a pair of human legs. The mermaid princess was delighted and very grateful, especially when the spell caster handed her a human garment to wear—even if it was but a tatty and torn peasant dress.

Then, much to the mermaid's surprise, the Witch of the Northern Seas magically conjured two more gifts. Firstly, a beautiful, shimmering flower of the sea, known mostly as the violet sea-rose, which blossomed silky purple petals.

Holding the enchanted sea-rose aloft, the Witch declared: "I have made you human for the duration of one year. This flower will bloom for precisely one year and then it will wither and die—that is how you will know your time as a human has ended."

Smirking in a pseudo-friendly manner, the devious beast then leaned closer to the princess. "However," she continued, "if you can find a human to love, one that truly loves you in return before the year is over… you will remain human—permanently."

The princesses' eyes grew wide. She was astounded by the Witch's apparent generosity, especially considering the less than favourable opinion most merpeople seemed to share of her. Needless to say, the mermaid princess was unaware of just how much the Witch desired riches and jewels.

"This second gift will also be invaluable to you," the Witch of the Northern Seas began again, holding an exquisite seashell encrusted hand mirror aloft, "as it has the power to let you see anything you wish to see. Use it to look back upon your home under the sea, the world you will no longer be a part of…"

At these words, the princess grew a little pensive. She was going to miss her home, much more her father and her sisters, but the allure of the human world was simply too much. And, at this time, she had every intention of returning.

Without saying anything, the mermaid princess gently retrieved the gifts from the Witch's hands, then politely smiled and nodded in appreciation.

Glancing out toward the sea for a final moment, the princess sighed, before turning back around to face the land and excitedly, but cautiously, beginning to navigate her way along the beach toward the nearest human town.

Unbeknownst to the princess or the sea witch, the entire evening's events had been witnessed by four of the mermaid's sea-dwelling friends, who were now very concerned about their beloved princess.

This quartet of creatures agreed to follow the princess and watch over her on behalf of the King, as well as for their own peace of mind. So they quietly crept along the beach also, some distance behind the mermaid princess, eager to look out for her and keep her safe from harm. Little did they know their task was going to be anything but easy…

Not noticing the creatures, the Witch of the Northern Seas remained to watch the princess disappear into the distance. Knowing much more of humans than the naïve young princess, she chortled under her breath and said to herself, "Be careful what you wish for…"

* * *

As if the Witch of the Northern Seas herself had already planned the unfortunate turn of fate, over the course of the next few weeks the mermaid princess experienced first hand the worst examples of humanity.

The family that offered her a place to stay treated her as nothing more than a lowly slave. The master of the house, a bitter alcoholic, beat her on oft occasions as well as subjecting her to lustful advances.

When in town she was treated as inferior by the locals due to her lack of knowledge of the "whys" and "wherefores" of the human world, and the princess also experienced several terrifying encounters with lecherous louts whilst being forced to accompany her master to the local haunts.

It was not long before the princess realised she must flee this place, for the sake of her sanity if nothing else, so when next the chance came she hitched a ride on the back of a cross-country goods delivery wagon, clutching desperately onto the splintered back doors the whole while, not caring that her fingers became bloodied and sore. This wagon travelled many miles along many different roads before the exhausted princess was eventually discovered, the wagon driver quickly becoming angry at the free-rider, yelling at her in a violent tone. Terrified, she fled into a nearby wood. After her previous experiences with humans, the young mermaid princess now scared very easily.

She decided at this time to stay well away from humans for the remainder of the year, to find a safe haven of her own, protecting her from the brutes, where she would wait for time to pass, for the last petal to fall from her enchanted violet sea-rose.

Continuing her journey on foot, she wandered almost aimlessly without any idea of direction, for many more miles, carefully managing to avoid humans the entire time.

It was impossible now for the princess to know in which direction the sea lied; she was lost, bruised and bewildered, no longer fascinated by humans but instead fearing them.

After yet more miles were travelled, a malnourished and weak princess was relieved and then overjoyed to discover an abandoned castle deep within a misty forest. She soon made the decrepit castle her home, finding clothes, furniture, even food to claim as her own.

The mermaid princess knew not why the bastion had been abandoned and left to become unkempt, nor did she care. Not a soul lived there, or nearby for that matter. It was therefore perfect, in the princesses' eyes.

She found a room to take comfort in as her own, where she placed her sea rose under a glass bell jar atop a dusty wooden table, placing the seashell hand mirror there also.

She often looked through the mirror to see how her father was coping; she felt incredible guilt for leaving the merpeople's kingdom without saying goodbye. She had originally hoped to only be transformed for a much shorter duration; three days, perhaps a week. But now, for nearly an entire year, she had nothing to do but contemplate the horrendous mistake she had made. She was trapped, with no way to return home.

Even when the sea rose was to lose its last petal, the mermaid princess was now miles away from any ocean, and she knew too well that merpeople could only survive for a brief while when placed out of sea water.

Too scared to leave the castle she now knew as home, the mermaid princess knew this meant certain death. She would never see the ocean, or her father, again. Most nights the mermaid princess would become lost in such hopeless thoughts, as she gazed out to the distant horizon whilst standing upon her bedroom balcony. Eventually, she always broke down into tears.

"Am I to die here?" she thought to herself. "Alone and frightened… My father was right. How could I be so foolish?"

Months passed.

The mermaid princess became more disillusioned and detached each day, even after becoming aware of the presence of her sea dwelling friends, whom had somehow managed to loyally follow her the entire distance of her journey.

One night, lost in her thoughts as she leaned upon the bedroom balcony's railing and sobbed, the mermaid princess suddenly and bitterly recalled the Witch of the Northern Seas words: "If you can find a human to love, one that truly loves you in return before the year is over… you will remain human—permanently."

The princess shook her head, and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to dry them.

"Love…? I doubt those creatures are even capable of such a thing. Just like he always said…"

Doomed, distraught, the mermaid princess looked up at the stars.

"Father, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me…"


	2. Chapter 1

My Belle is... a little different. And Lefou is not in the story... I was never a fan of annoyingly stupid side-kick characters.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

**"Strange But Special"**

On the far side of the misty, maze-like woods that lay practically upon the abandoned castle's great doorstep, a castle that was now the abode of the reclusive mermaid princess, just past a short stretch of rolling green hills, was a charming provincial village. Here, life was slow and predictable.

Every day ran to the same schedule, an almost exact replica of the day before—first thing in the morning, the baker would be trying to sell his freshest breads. Once the butcher opened up shop, it would be certain the local mongrels would be scavenging for a morsel. When the older ladies of the town gathered, the latest gossip would be passed back and forth. Every Sunday at 9 o clock precisely, the church bells rang, signalling to all that heeded the ways of the church that it was time to attend this week's sermon.

Almost all who lived in this town would attend or at least wish to attend—these were simple, God fearing peasants, desiring acceptance from and assimilation with their fellow, like-minded villagers. With the exception, however, of one particular family.

The Cartiers.

Despite having lived in the town for many years, they were often the mainstay of the local gossip; they were deemed "strange" by most, granted the unenviable title of The Village Outsiders.

Maurice, an ageing and somewhat scatterbrained inventor was seen by most as a crackpot. Harmless, but a crackpot nonetheless. His daughter however, regarded him as nothing less than a genius.

Her name was Belle, and she thought the world of her father—as he did of his only child. All they had were each other, and their tiny farmlet on the outskirts of town. Despite their failure to "fit in", Maurice still wanted this tranquil setting for his work. At least until the day his breakthrough invention brought them fame and hopefully fortune.

Belle spent most of her time reading, writing or practicing on her cherished violin. She was, in truth, a very gifted young woman with a greater and more diverse intellect than her father.

The townspeople should have been in awe, perhaps intimidated by, Belle's intelligence. But they cared none for it, if even they did notice. For she was a standout beauty—a tall, svelte brunette, who radiated farm-girl femininity.

Most of the townsfolk couldn't help but stare whenever she walked past. The men leering, the women shaking their heads and whispering such comments as: "It's a shame, with _those_ looks, that she's not… normal," "She needs to get her head out of the clouds! She's only interested in her violin, or the latest book that she's reading. When will she settle down and marry a fine husband?" and "I don't understand half of what she says. Is it her idea of humour…?"

Largely unaware, or at least trying to ignore the glances and whispers, Belle tried to remain as aloof as possible from the small minded townsfolk—which only added to her mystique. But she was always polite and courteous, even toward her worst detractors—as was her nature.

She constantly dreamed of the day when her father, along with her help, attained his breakthrough, thus becoming a renowned inventor nationwide, as she too could perhaps finally achieve her own dream: attending a music school.

But until the seemingly far off day, Belle would just have to indulge herself in her imagination as she read, or immerse herself in work around the home. She was very efficient when it came to chores around the farm, as she wanted her father to spend as much time as possible in the basement, tinkering with his latest invention; hence, she always was the one to undertake the hard work. Not that she minded; for many years she had, and was now quite capable.

Kind and thoughtful, she also knew that her father was not in the best of health, and always made sure that he never even attempted any strenuous work—though Maurice often argued that Belle was fussing over him.

One mild autumn morning, a day as ordinary as any other, Belle left her cottage early to undertake some errands in town.

As always, she was followed closely behind by her adored feline companion, a black, fluffy moggy by the name of Cheeky; named so for he had a mischievous face. He was however, a placid and affectionate tom, in truth never having hunted a single creature in his life. Food was the main focus in his existence—he was quite the glutton, and therefore quite hefty. But he loved Belle deeply, never wanting to be far from her, often sleeping at night practically upon her face.

As they crossed the small stone bridge that separated their land from town, Belle was delighted to witness two Swablus flurry past.

They were rare, blue-coloured birds, undeniably cute with pure, cottony wings.

The Swablu pair chirped merrily as they flew past. Belle, a lover of all creatures great and small, held a finger up, bending it horizontally in hope that a Swablu might land upon it.

Not this morning however, as the birds continued on their way, possibly searching for a body of water in which to clean their wings. Cheeky followed their flight path with his gaze briefly—merely out of playfulness.

The sun had not warmed the earth long before Belle had reached the main street of town, but already it was a hub of activity.

"Good morning, Belle," the baker greeted as she strode past.

"Good morning, Monsieur!" she answered, politely and cheerfully, her gaze seeming distant but her smile sincere. Immediately, she became momentarily distracted by the array of freshly-baked goods that the baker was carefully balancing on a large metal tray. Even Cheeky stopped dead in his tracks to sniff at the enticing aroma.

"Mmm, fresh batards," Belle murmured, admiring the delicious breads.

"Where are you off to this time of the day?" the baker inquired out of curiosity.

Belle's eyes lit up as her gaze returned to the baker. She was about to speak about one of her favourite subjects—books.

"The bookshop!" she answered brightly, fetching a book from within the small basket that looped around her forearm. "I've just read the most amazing tale, the latest in my favourite series... in this one, with the help of a magical imp, the hero can transform into a wolf!"

The baker should have known. Of course Belle would be heading toward the bookshop! He suddenly became disinterested, rolling his eyes a little as he tried to dismiss her as politely as he could.

"An imp that can transform into a wolf, you say? That's… nice. Oh dear me, I do believe I have a customer waiting over there…"

Belle shrugged and smiled to herself. "Oh well, it's your loss."

No one else in town seemed to care for the world of books. Not the fictional variety, anyway. _How could they not, though?_ Belle often wondered. There was adventure, romance, magic, good versus evil… had they no imaginations?

As Belle entered the bookshop, the book keeper was not surprised at all to see his most frequent customer. "Ah, if it isn't Mademoiselle Cartier," he greeted with a tone full of both fondness and familiarity. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be out of business!"

Belle rolled her eyes playfully. "If I ate a croissant for every time you said that, I'd be the size of a house. Anyway, I've come to return the book I borrowed yesterday." She then informed, handing him the book, before heading straight toward the shelves.

The book keeper smiled. "Finished already? Is that a new record?"

"Actually, I think it's equal to a record," Belle said, smiling back. "Although, I didn't think to time myself." Gesturing toward the book the keeper was now grasping, she then added: "That one, I couldn't put down. You know I love those books. And the twist with Midna at the end... Wow!" She glanced back toward the shelves. "Anything new?"

Still smiling, the book keeper shook his head. "Since yesterday? Wishful thinking, I should say."

"A girl can dream, can't she?"

The book keeper laughed, always marvelled by Belle's enthusiasm.

"Not to worry," Belle began again, trailing the binders of several books with an outstretched index finger. "I'll just borrow…" Her eyes quickly became affixed upon a book titled 'The Legend of Zelda'.

"…this one!"

She handed it to the book keeper eagerly.

"That one? You've already read it half a dozen times."

"Well, it's the original in the series, and my all time favourite! Mythical lands, mythical beasts… an epic struggle between good and evil that spans time… an endearing elf boy and a beautiful princess…"

Belle gestured as she spoke, feigning swordplay, as if she herself were the Hero of Time that was the central character of this particular novel.

The book keeper watched her energetic display and laughed again. "If you like it _that_ much… then it's yours. Keep it."

Belle was surprised—but pleasantly so. "But sir… I really don't…"

"I insist!" The book keeper said, touching Belle's arm as she began to exit the bookshop. "As long as you remember, you're a little tall to be playing the role of an elf-boy… and also… well, female."

Belle smiled in a silly, sarcastic manner. "Thanks. I'll try to remember that."

She promptly began on her way through town again, calling out to the book keeper, without facing him entirely, and then to Cheeky:

"In all seriousness, though, thank you, sir. C'mon, Cheeky! Time to go food shopping. Try to control yourself when we get there, OK?"

As she continued through the busy streets, people watched and whispered as always.

One young man in particular watched Belle more closely than the others—his name was Gaston, and he was a handsome and muscular hunter, deemed the town's most eligible bachelor by all of the young ladies. Except Belle, the only resident in town who saw through to Gaston's true nature. In her eyes, he was nothing more than a vain, vacuous braggart, yet remarkably, every single other villager failed to notice this.

Both men and women alike practically worshipped him—he was the town hero. He constantly had a stream of shallow girls following him around, as well as his oafish 'yes-men' cronies, all of who hoped some of Gaston's charisma and popularity would rub off on them.

This bright autumn morning, Gaston was ogling Belle as he always did, large hunting gun in hand—his ever present symbol of utmost masculinity. A handful of other young men, neither as attractive nor as powerful as their idol, loitered close to him.

As Belle moved closer toward them through the bustling marketplace, Gaston remarked to no-one in particular, "There she is, boys. The woman who is going to be my wife."

Several sets of young male eyes fixed on Belle, but none with a gaze as intense as Gaston's.

The young woman at which they collectively stared was grasping a book in one hand, reading whilst she walked, and held a buttered croissant in the other, which was obviously her breakfast.

"The Cartier girl?" A lanky lad with thin, shoulder length mousy hair questioned. "Sure, Gaston, well, what red-blooded male wouldn't want a piece of her, but _marry _her? I mean…"

Gaston's head turned sharply, his eyes piercing through the boy. "Want a piece of her, do you?"

The mousy haired lad panicked, throwing up his hands defensively. "No! No, of course not! I just meant…"

Another of the young men stepped forward, this one heavier and freckle-faced. "What Christophe is _trying_ to say…" he began, to the aid of the previous blatherer beside him, "is that we all know she's gorgeous, Gaston. But… I don't know about _marriage _material. She's a little… what's the weird…?"

"…_Queer?_" Christophe finished with a feeble shrug. Gaston sneered at both of them.

"Thanks for your concern. But I don't think reading and playing a musical instrument make her queer." He glanced back toward Belle's direction.

She was now well on her way home, still managing to, almost clumsily, balance her book and her breakfast.

"Besides… when she's my wife I can have 'a piece' of her whenever I want. Isn't that the _point_ of marriage?"

The young men pondered the question, all of them obviously still bachelors. From the smiles that soon formed upon their faces, it was evident that they enthusiastically agreed with Gaston.

Gaston grinned lecherously. "_Exactly_. Now if you'll excuse me," he faced his protégés in order to bid them goodbye, "A certain girl is in need of my attention."

With that, he strutted off.

"Good luck!" Christophe called out, eager to make amends for his earlier blunder.

"Not that he'll need it," Ramon, the frumpy freckled one, quietly added.

Caught up in the endearing elf boy's epic adventures in Hyrule, Belle failed to notice that she was being followed.

She was nearly home, just about to cross the stone bridge, when Gaston leapt in front of her. He smiled as brightly as possible, grasping his gun with both hands.

Cheeky hissed and backed up against Belle's legs, and Belle, at last, glanced up—nearly choking on a mouthful of croissant when she did so.

"Hello, Belle," Gaston announced with booming confidence.

"Uhh… ahem. Bonjour Gaston," she cleared her throat as she answered him as politely as possible, despite her utter dislike of the man.

She then brushed crumbs from her clothes and tapped her chest with some force in order to aid the semi-stuck buttery flakes of her croissant downward. As she side-stepped Gaston non-chalantly, Belle then took another bite of her breakfast, as she continued the path homeward.

But the persistent Gaston stepped in front of her again, snatching the book rudely from her hands, a smug grin upon his face.

The brisk action caused Belle to drop her half eaten-breakfast into a nearby mud puddle.

"Oops, sorry about that. But those things are really fatty, aren't they? Can't have you losing your figure." Gaston pretended to flick through the book as he spoke, though he was really eyeing Belle's curves.

Belle felt her anger rise. "That's alright. Coincidentally I've suddenly lost my appetite anyway." She moved forward with haste, intending to retrieve her book. "Can I have my book back, please?"

Gaston stretched his arm out sideways, hoping Belle would lean across him as she attempted to claim her book back. Instead, she took a step backward and crossed her arms, glaring at the brute.

"Tsk, tsk," Gaston shook his head in false concern. "The whole town is talking about you, you know. They say it's not right for a woman to read so much, that it's not… _normal_."

"Normal?" Belle repeated, arms still crossed. "When did I profess to be normal?"

Gaston ignored her subtle, self-demeaning humour. "Why waste your time with these things?" he said of the book, eyeing it with contempt.

"The only thing you need to think about is right here in front of you—you can't argue that I'm Grade 'A' husband material!"

With a dazzling smile, he tossed Belle's book to the ground and attempted to slide his arm around her shoulders, but Belle gracefully dodged his advance and hastily plucked her book from upon the dirt, dusting it clean as she became upright.

"That depends on what the 'A' stands for. Abhorrent, audacious, antipathetic…" she remarked somewhat casually, knowing Gaston would have no understanding of the adjectives used.

In fact, he interpreted them as compliments. "Why, you flatterer. And may I say you are quite arboraceous yourself!"

Belle rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling to herself. It was obvious Gaston was trying to impress her, but his incorrect use of vocabulary only hindered more so his dismal attempt at wooing.

"Say… why don't we wonder over to the tavern for a while?" Gaston began again, strutting cockily around the bemused Belle.

"Little early for a drink, isn't it?"

Gaston laughed heartily. "Not if you say so. My shout."

"Sure is tempting," Belle began with well hidden sarcasm as she turned toward home again, "But I'm afraid I'm rather busy. Maybe some other time," she then finished, struggling to feign sincerity.

Still persisting, Gaston grabbed her arm and attempted to turn her back around, pulling her closer to him and closer toward town. Hastily, Belle shook her arm free and shot a frown at him.

"Gaston, I can't! I have to get home to help my father. He's expecting me any minute. Go and get drunk by yourself, hmmm?"

Although her tone was faintly humorous, Belle was becoming quite livid. Gaston was one of the most infuriating individuals she had ever met.

_Why__, of all the young village women, did he choose to pursue __me__? We clearly have nothing in common. Why can't he obsess over someone else…_

Belle's thoughts were harshly interrupted by the rich, booming voice of her antagonist.

"You know Belle, you're a strange one alright. Just like your father."

With that comment, Belle instantly became furious. "Don't you _dare _speak of my father that way!"

Gaston threw up a hand defensively. "Hey, whoa, I didn't mean it _that_ way. It's good… it keeps things… _interesting_."

_I don't want you to find me interesting_. Forcing herself to calm down, Belle stated, simply and coolly: "My father isn't strange. He's a mechanical genius."

With impeccable timing, a loud explosion shook the ground, and smoke billowed out from the basement door of a nearby cottage—Belle's cottage.

Belle slapped her forehead. "Oh no, not again!"

She quickly sprinted off, Cheeky following close behind.

Gaston stared after her, his gaze intense, his brow slightly furrowed, his gloved hands clutching his magnificent hunting gun tightly.

* * *

"Are you alright, Papa? That was the third explosion this week!" Belle spoke into the thick smoke as she descended the basement stairs, trying to clear the air with rapid sideways movements of her right hand as she did so.

Maurice, her father, was sitting beside his latest invention with a rather shocked expression upon his smoke blackened face.

"Consarn it! Just when I think I have this thing figured out, it blows up in my face! I can't win." He stood up, dusting himself off hastily. Kicking the large machine in frustration, he grumbled, "Stupid bloody hunk of junk!"

This latest attempt at a fame winning invention looked somewhat like a large coal stove with a chair attached, with many gears, levers and pulleys gluing it all together. Jutting out of the front of the machine was a gleaming woodchopper's axe—which was the key element to the invention.

Maurice had wanted to create a contraption that made the usually gruelling and tedious task of chopping firewood much easier; first of all for his hard working daughter. But it wasn't exactly coming together at this point in time…

"Yeah, yeah. If I had a gold coin for every time you said that…" Belle couldn't help but smile as she spoke. More than anything, she was just relieved to have her father in one piece.

Maurice began to smile also. "Now, don't start…"

Belle always managed to help him see the brighter side of life. She could always make him laugh, bring a smile to his face… and she'd done so ever since she was capable of talking.

Returning their attention to the uncooperative invention, Belle then asked: "What seems to be the problem this time?"

"Well, it's… ummm, it's… uhhh…" Maurice scratched his head as he dragged the sentence out.

"Take a look at it, shall I?" Belle offered, though she was already moving toward the machine as she spoke, knowing very well that her father would want her to evaluate the situation.

Cheeky leapt high onto a nearby window sill, eyeing Maurice's invention curiously.

Sliding underneath the cumbersome contraption, Belle requested of her father, "Here, pass me the 9 inch spanner, please."

Fumbling around in a close by toolbox, Maurice couldn't help but grin to himself. Everyone thought it was he who was the alleged brains behind the inventions, but it was always Belle who ironed out all of the faults.

"Did you have a good time in town today?" Maurice inquired as he passed his daughter the required tool.

"Oh, yeah. It was riveting. I was harassed by Gaston, who made me drop my breakfast in the mud." Belle replied sarcastically from underneath the machine, her voice echoing slightly. "Oh, I did get a new book though, so I suppose it wasn't a complete loss. Well not so much a _new_ book… 'The Legend of Zelda'—you know that one, right? The book keeper gave it to me. It was really sweet of him…"

"Oh?" Maurice placed his hands on his hips. "That's the one with the pointy eared people, right? Good story. I quite like that Link fellow."

Belle slid back out from underneath the invention. "The Hero of Time? Yeah…" She said softly, sitting up. Carefully, she leaned back against the machine, casting her eyes downward upon the spanner, which was still in her hand. Beginning to fiddle with the tool absent-mindedly, Belle then sighed heavily.

Maurice immediately grew concerned. "What's wrong? Please tell me its fixable…" he asked, referring to his invention.

Belle smiled at him nervously. "Oh no, it's not that…" Her expression then became one of serious concern.

"Papa… do you think there's something wrong with me?"

"Wrong?" Maurice was stunned by the question. "Whatever do you mean?"

Belle shrugged. "I know I'm not like other girls," she began, avoiding eye contact momentarily. "It sounds silly, but… well, for example, with 'The Legend of Zelda', most girls would imagine themselves as the beautiful princess… but I always imagine myself as the Hero of Time."

Despite his daughter's sombre mood change, Maurice couldn't help but laugh. "That's _it_? Just as long as you don't imagine yourself as the villain, it's fine by me!"

At this comment, Belle managed a smile. "Don't worry, I don't have any villainous tendencies. But it's not just that…"

"What else?"

"People talk… all the time. I'm not naïve. I know the townspeople think I'm strange. Gaston even had the nerve to tell me I'm not '_normal'_ to my face."

Maurice sighed. He knew that deep down, despite her independence, that Belle craved a sense of belonging.

"People talk about me, too. It's like they have nothing better to do! And why let Gaston bother you? I know he's a handsome fellow, but his manner leaves a lot to be desired."

Belle smirked a little. "He's handsome? I never really noticed."

Maurice chuckled quietly. He had assumed that Belle was merely being sarcastic, but in fact she wasn't. However, she wasn't being entirely literal either.

Noticing her father's bemused expression, Belle shrugged again. "What? I meant, I can see straight through him… can only see his ugliness. Never mind… _I _know what I mean."

Maurice continued to smile at his daughter. "As long as _you _do," He let escape a slight chuckle. "But, really sweetheart, you shouldn't let their comments get to you. Come now, you must know you're the sanest person in this house!"

Maurice's attempt at a compliment was a bit of a misfire.

Belle frowned slightly at him, although a tiny smile also grew upon her face. "Ummm, thanks." She glanced sideways, catching Cheeky out of the corner of her eye, the fluffy feline now lazing groggily upon the window sill. "Hear that Cheeky? Papa thinks you're crazy. He said it, not me!" Belle laughed lightly, but Cheeky didn't register the 'insult' at all. He just yawned widely, and then half heartedly began to lick his front paws.

"Don't turn the cat against me!" Maurice joked, gently helping Belle to her feet.

Though she was his offspring, Belle towered over her short, balding and somewhat rotund father. If a stranger were to look at them, they would have never guessed the two were related. But they did share a scientific intelligence, one that helped them bond and share such situations as this—namely, tinkering with the latest family invention.

Belle tried to shake off her currently solemn mood by encouraging her father to try again. "Well, it should be alright now." She informed, placing her hand upon the machine's side. "Why don't you give it another go?"

"Errr, OK…"

Maurice cautiously grasped his hand around the starter lever. In a quick motion he yanked it downward, and the contraption noisily whirred to life.

Backing away, he placed his hands over his ears, half expecting another explosion. Belle however, stood on the spot, arms folded in a confident manner, a manner she would usually only exhibited in front of her father.

To Maurice's surprise and then joy, the invention began to work properly. Gears shifted effortlessly, pulleys linked sections of the engine without snapping or stopping, coals burned brightly, steam whistled… and axe thrusted. Up and down it chopped, splitting the logs of wood that were accurately stacked in front of the machine in no time.

Firewood flew all around the room, mostly harmlessly crashing into nearby walls.

"Hey, you did it!" Belle exclaimed joyfully to her father. "I knew you could."

"Uh, yes…" Maurice scratched his head again. "I… I did do it, didn't I? Heh heh."

Just then, a stray piece of wood zoomed past, missing Maurice's head by centimetres. "Well, uh… it's _nearly _perfect," he said, backing away from the invention just a little more.

"Perhaps you could wear a helmet?" Belle quipped.

Maurice was too excited to register the comment, however. "Sweetheart, could you hitch up Phillipe? It's time to take this show on the road! I'm already a little behind schedule."

In no time at all, Belle had made ready their sturdy Clydesdale, Phillipe, the invention safely tied down in an ageing wooden cart behind him. Maurice was already astride the huge horse, adjusting himself as necessary.

"Are you sure you'll be alright, Papa? The fair is a long distance away, and you know the woods can be dangerous…"

"Oh Belle, stop fussing! The woods are fine in the daytime; I should be through them by nightfall. Besides, I've got Phillipe here! He'll look after me, won't you, m'boy?" Maurice patted the steed's great head, and Phillipe neighed in appreciation. "Well, I best be going."

Maurice flicked the reins, signalling for Phillipe to begin their journey. "The inventor's fair awaits!" He shouted cheerfully to his daughter, who was bidding Maurice farewell, standing several metres from the front door of their home, Cheeky sitting on the ground beside her feet.

"Goodbye, Papa. Be careful, OK? I know you'll bring home the blue ribbon!" Belle waved, and then waited until her father had disappeared completely from sight before returning, along with Cheeky, back inside the humble cottage.


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**"Talking Sea Creatures?"**

As the rolling, lush green hills passed in the mild sunlight of the bright autumn afternoon, Maurice hummed or sang quietly to himself, or began one sided conversations with his trustworthy equine friend, Phillipe.

"Belle sure does fuss over me sometimes, doesn't she, m'boy? Of course I know its only because she cares… I really am a very lucky man…"

Needless to say, Phillipe never contributed verbally. Though he would, on occasion, seem to nod, as if he understood every word.

Time passed quickly, a little too quickly for Maurice's liking in fact, as it was just on dusk as he and Phillipe entered the woods—these woods infamous for their population of aggressive wolves.

Aware that the wolves prowled mainly at night, Maurice pulled his cloak closer to him as he felt a chill of fear run down his spine. The sun was already set—and he had only just entered the woods.

Mild autumn day had given way to brisk autumn dusk, as shadows grew scarier as did unrecognizable sounds, and Maurice gripped the reins tightly, his knuckles becoming paler.

"We'd better hurry through here, Phillipe… hmmm, what does that sign say?"

A few metres in front of them stood a signpost with several signs pointing in different directions each—the writing on all of them indecipherable.

Maurice groaned—nothing nearby looked at all familiar. He feared he was now lost, alone in the woods, with night approaching quickly.

Maurice swallowed hard. "C'mon boy, I think we better go this way," he said to Phillipe as he pulled the Clydesdale toward he pathway he wished to follow, his voice as shaky as his hands were. Phillipe, too, was becoming uneasy—though he was of tremendous size, he was very timid by nature, and therefore spooked quite easily.

Pulling out his map to investigate, Maurice didn't notice a sinister four-legged silhouette rush past through nearby trees. But Phillipe did.

Whinnying anxiously, the great horse reared onto his hind legs before breaking out into a frenzied gallop.

"Whoa, Phillipe! Steady, m'boy!" Maurice tried to calm his horse down, but his efforts were futile. After Phillipe had sprinted a short distance, he suddenly stopped in an open clearing, not far from a cliff edge with a perilous drop.

"Whew! That's better," Maurice soothed, stroking Phillipe's mane. "Maybe we should forget about the inventor's fair and return to the safety of our home…" _I wish I'd planned this trip better…_

Just when Maurice thought at last that he had his horse settled, the unmistakable howl of a wolf filled the cool air, and fear arose within both of them once more. Phillipe more so than Maurice, as the steed reared on his hind legs again, neighing loudly.

The Clydesdale had reared so violently this time that Maurice lost his balance and tumbled off. Crashing to the earth with a heavy thud, he found himself temporarily winded and nauseated.

What was worse, Phillipe had hastily galloped off without his rider, bulky invention still in tow, the poor horse terrified.

"Phillipe…?" Maurice whispered desperately into the settling darkness. The now alone middle-aged man's only answer was the second howl of a wolf—only this time, the howl seemed much closer.

Maurice looked around his immediate surroundings frantically. His ageing heart was racing, as the adrenaline in his body prepared him to run.

Too soon, the shady figure of a wolf appeared, its sinister yellow eyes aglow in the darkness.

Maurice gasped, before breaking into the fastest run his stubby legs would allow him. The wolf was not alone—they were, after all, pack animals.

Maurice could hear the snarling and panting of several wolves gaining on him. He rushed through the forest, not caring that wayward branches scratched his face and tore his cloak. His only aim was escape.

Not even concerned about in which direction he was headed, Maurice stumbled down a small incline after misplacing his footing.

The woods had now grown so dark that Maurice was unaware that storm clouds had gathered. As he gingerly looked up, a little stunned from his fall, a flash of fork lightening split the sky, lighting up the area considerably—if only for a moment.

But in that moment, Maurice saw a huge cast iron double gate, only a short distance away.

Ignoring his injuries, he pushed himself off the earth and lunged forward in one movement, not unlike an athlete at the beginning of a footrace.

As he did so, the wolves leapt down the incline, closing on him.

Literally falling through the gate, which was rusty and squeaked from misuse, Maurice then immediately shut the gate behind him with the kick of a foot, just as the hungry wolves lunged.

The wolves slammed into the gate, momentarily unperturbed as they snapped at Maurice's heels through the bars, snarling and slobbering.

Lying upon the cold, hard ground, Maurice scrambled backward, aware that a well placed bite could sink into his foot. In doing so, Maurice's cloak became dislodged, but he failed to notice. He was just relieved to be safe at last.

He only hoped that Phillipe had escaped harm also…

Eventually, the wolves gave up. Realising their chase was over, that their prey had escaped, they turned and scurried back into the misty forest.

For a moment, Maurice remained lying upon the cold earth. He panted, almost wheezed for oxygen as his eyes stared into the pitch black sky above.

It wasn't too long before his heart rate and breathing returned to normal, and slowly, he began to sit up.

Another flash of lightening lit up the sky, and almost instantly it began to rain in torrents. Wanting to remain dry, Maurice turned around to begin the search for shelter—and was amazed by what he saw.

Directly in front of him stood an enormous, ageing castle. Many cracks ran across the stone walls, and tangled vines covered much of the surface area. It reached skyward a great distance, and as Maurice craned his neck upward in awe of the sight, he noticed a light.

From inside a window, high upon one of the castle's sides, did this light glow. It was an eerie, dull purple hue, which intrigued Maurice somewhat. _A purple light? How strange…_

He was certain now that there must be someone inside, and thus briskly walked toward the castle's front door.

The path was not lengthy at all, with barren earth either side of it—barren, that is, apart from weeds.

Soon he was upon the castle's entrance, a great pair of wooden doors that appeared as decrepit as the rest of the castle's outward façade.

Despite his effort to retreat from the rain as quickly as possible, Maurice was already soaked when he knocked, with force, on the castle's great door. To his surprise, the door creaked open after only two knocks, and he cautiously peered inside. The castle foyer was somewhat dark—Maurice could only see a few feet in front of him. Although he could sense that the area was indeed tremendous in size…

A chill raced through him. He felt as if he might be absorbed by the cavernous void of this massive foyer.

Suddenly, fear settled upon him, and he reluctantly stepped inside to escape the pouring rain.

"Uh, hello?" Maurice called out, a hint of a quiver in his voice. "Hello…"

It appeared not a soul was around… although, Maurice noted to himself, the castle did _seem_ abandoned, the interior was not anywhere near as unkempt as the exterior. He was certain it had been cleaned fairly recently, and cleaned thoroughly.

_Someone__ must live here. Someone impeccably clean, or with too much time on their hands…_

"Is anyone here?" He called out, a little louder this time, his confidence gathering. "I'm sorry if I'm trespassing, but my horse ran off and I'd really appreciate a place to stay for the night… if it's not too much trouble…"

Only the echo of his own voice answered him.

Sighing, Maurice inspected his surroundings a little more eagerly. Lush drapings hung all around the castle's grand foyer, the carpets equally as lush. The tiles of uncarpeted areas were beautiful in design, and he had no doubt that they must have been expensive. Marble statues greeted him in every corner, some of them appearing quite scary, depicting monsters and such—monsters not real in this world, Maurice thought thankfully.

A grand staircase was but one exit from the foyer, connecting it to the numerous other rooms of the castle, the staircase itself leading to a second floor hallway with several doors.

Maurice was marvelled by the sheer size of this magnificent castle, and knew just how easily he could become lost. Not wanting to venture any deeper into to castle without some form of assistance, he was now determined to find an inhabitant of this abode.

He walked around the castle foyer, calling out rather loudly in the direction of all the exits, one by one.

"Hello? Is there anyone one in here? Can anyone hear me? I mean no harm… Please, I just need a place to stay…"

Unbeknownst to Maurice, he was being watched from the top of the grand staircase—but not by human eyes.

Perched atop the railing, on the left-handed side of the staircase, was a seagull. Also sitting atop the railing, just beside the seagull, was a tiny crab. As they watched this stranger call out into the darkness of the castle's main foyer, they whispered back and forth to each other.

"Look at the poor guy! He's soaked, and I think he's lost. Can't we help him?" The kindly seagull asked, hopefully.

"Are you crazy?" The crab snapped back at him. "What about the princess? She'd probably have a heart attack! Not to mention that she'd never speak to either of us again! Do you want to be responsible for upsetting her?"

The crab spoke with a thick Caribbean accent, gesticulating wildly with his pincers for dramatic effect. "Besides, we're not even SUPPOSED to talk to humans!"

"Aw, c'mon, Sebastian," the seagull persisted. "He's short and old… I don't think he'd be dangerous."

Scuttle, the seagull, was dim-witted and gullible, but certainly loveable. He was also determined to win this argument with his close, but stubborn friend, Sebastian the crab.

"Humph! If you ask me, they're all dangerous." Was Sebastian's reply, as he folded his elbows so his pincers rested against the sides of his shell, much like a human placing their hands on their hips. He was uptight and stuffy, carrying himself with grandeur far greater than his tiny size. But he cared much for his princess, and desperately wanted no more harm to befall her.

Neither did Scuttle, but if anything, he was too forgiving for past mistakes. Incidentally, he had already decided that he wanted to help this human, and immediately called out so the intruder could hear below: "Hey, Mister Human Guy! You can stay here if you want to. As long as you're not mean, or planning to stay for a really long time, or…"

Sebastian slapped his forehead with one of his great pincers.

Maurice looked up, startled. "Who said that?" He asked, peering into the darkness. "Where are you?"

"Up here!" Scuttle called out, waving, though Maurice still failed to see him. Scuttle didn't realise just how dark it was, or that just because he could see the stranger down below, didn't necessarily mean the human could see him.

Maurice strained his eyes, trying to make out a human figure standing somewhere at the top of the grand staircase.

"Geez, mon! I don't appreciate this situation at all." Sebastian sighed, throwing his pincers up.

"Where are you?" Maurice repeated, squinting hard.

Promptly, Scuttle flew down to greet the visitor, stopping to hover only inches from Maurice's face. "Evenin', Mister!"

Maurice gasped, taking a startled step backwards. He couldn't believe what he was seeing—a… seagull was greeting him! Was it even real, or was he simply imagining it?

"Umm, I… uhhh, ummm…"

As Maurice stuttered, Sebastian slid down the staircase railing, before scurrying over on all six tiny legs to join his seagull friend.

Maurice's gaze gradually moved from the hovering seagull to the miniscule crab approaching him, and he took another step backward, unsure of what to think. Not only were these species of creatures rare where they were currently situated, as any ocean was miles away, but the seagull had talked!

_Am I finally losing my marbles?_ Maurice wondered to himself.

He was half-expecting the crab to talk also, which eventually it did, upon reaching Maurice's feet.

Puffing out his tiny crustacean chest as much as possible, he stated, "I am Horatio Felonious Ignacious Crustaceous Sebastian, and I suggest you leave quickly, Sir."

Maurice couldn't help but begin to smile. The crab was pretty cute—and that accent! "Heh, heh. Are you for real?"

"I most certainly AM real," Sebastian confirmed, "and I assure you, it is in your best interests to leave immediately!"

"Aw, stop being such a stuffed crab!" Scuttle said, smiling at Sebastian's attempt to be intimidating, as he landed beside him. "This guy means no harm, you heard him! And it's really dark outside and now it's raining…"

Suddenly realising how cold in fact he was, Maurice clasped his arms around himself. Sniffling, he began to speak to Sebastian. "I'm really sorry Mister Crab, I really don't mean to put you out… it's just that my horse ran away, and the woods are full of wolves at night… I'll leave first thing tomorrow, I promise. And I… I, ah… ahhh… AH-CHOO!"

A sneeze exploded out of him, startling Sebastian and Scuttle. Maurice then sniffed, rather loudly and uncouthly.

"Oh my, please excuse me," he then apologised, his voice becoming nasally almost instantly, as if he were suffering the onset of a cold.

"_Excused_," Sebastian muttered to himself.

"Look, the poor guy is soaked! Can't he stay, just for one night?" I'm sure Ariel won't mind, if we explained things…" Scuttle pleaded with the crab, who gasped upon mention of Ariel's name, anticipating Maurice's inevitable question:

"Who's Ariel?"

"_SHHH!_" Sebastian hushed Scuttle, all too late.

"Aw, Sebastian! You know she hardly ever leaves her room, up in the west wing. She won't even have to know."

Puzzled, Maurice asked again. "Who's Ariel?"

"Huh?" Scuttle looked back up at the somewhat overweight human. "Oh, she's just one of the seven mermaid princesses," the seagull began to rapidly blather, "who was magically transformed into a human 'cos she wanted to be, but she had a really hard time and now she's regretting it and…"

Furious, Sebastian clamped the blabbermouth seagull's beak shut with a pincer. "Grrr! Why don't you just tell him her whole life story, mon? Geez you are hopeless!"

"Mmpph, mmm mforry." Scuttle tried to apologise, but it was near impossible with a clamped beak.

"A… mermaid?" Maurice scratched his nearly bald head. "I didn't know such creatures were real."

"What humans don't know could fill this castle, and then some!" Sebastian griped, at last releasing Scuttle's beak from his tight clasp.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Maurice suddenly felt guilty for being human, a sentiment he found strange, and one he couldn't understand. Perhaps the crab just had a convincing way with words.

"Look, I promise to stay away from her," the human then assured, "and I'll only stay here tonight… please, it's becoming very cold outside…"

Sebastian glared at the man for a moment. Then he sighed, and threw up his pincers once more. Noticing this, Scuttle began to smile.

"Does this mean…" The seagull asked, pretty certain he already knew the answer.

"Yes! Alright!" Sebastian, at last, relented, albeit unhappily so. "He can stay! Just tonight! In a room, somewhere in the east wing. Ariel will never have to know. You won't tell her," he pointed at Scuttle, "and I won't tell her. Everything will be fine." Disappointed with himself, Sebastian then sighed: "Geez mon. What a soft shell I'm turning out to be…"

He shook his head, and Scuttle piped up with a hint of humorous mockery: "We usually soften with _age_."

But Maurice was delighted with Sebastian's apparent 'softening'. "Oh, thank you! You've probably saved this old man's life."

"Yeah, yeah," Sebastian said in a dismissive tone, crossing his pincers as a human would fold their arms. "Just keep to yourself, and don't go anywhere near the west wing!"

"I won't. Thank you, again."

"You're welcome!" Scuttle replied brightly, flapping his wings to raise himself from the floor and become airborne once more.

"I'm so tired," Maurice confessed, his voice still nasally. "I think I'll go to bed right away." Letting out a telling yawn, Maurice then looked around. "Um, so uh… which way is east? I'm not entirely sure…"

"Oh, geez mon!" Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Here, follow me. You humans are hopeless…"


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**An Unwanted Suitor, A Missing Father**

"Are you sure about this?" Christophe asked meekly, fearing a reprimand. Gaston simply ignored the question. He had never been surer of anything in his life.

Dressed in his finest, most expensive clothes, Gaston strolled confidently toward the little cottage just outside of town—the one with a simple dirt path leading to a small stone bridge with a crystal blue stream running under it. The cottage situated on a tiny farmlet, with only a handful of animals belonging to it. The cottage that one, if close enough, could currently hear soft violin music emanating from. Belle's cottage.

Venturing with Gaston were Christophe, Ramon and a handful of other young men. Gaston had invited them, and they assumed their role was to be moral support—however, Gaston, in truth, wished to show off his courting prowess. He wished to brag. To elevate himself even further, if possible, toward extreme paragon status in the lads' eyes.

"It is… kinda sudden," Ramon added, more confident in manner than Christophe.

"What if she says 'no'?" Another lad asked, relatively innocently.

Gaston spun around. His brow suddenly creased. "_'No'_? Are you kidding? Do you forget who you're talking to?"

His audience fell silent, seemingly convinced of Gaston's unfaltering abilities.

_Of course. What woman in their right mind would turn Gaston down?_

Gaston flashed his pearly whites at the boys, then cockily strode up to Belle's door. Pausing a brief moment for dramatic purposes, he then knocked.

Inside, Belle was immersed in the world of key signatures, Mozart, sustained fourth chords—the world of music.

Practicing on her violin, she was quite disappointed to be disturbed.

Sheet music was scattered everywhere, mostly on top of the table in the middle of the small living room in which she was currently situated. Countless books could be seen also, but not just music books do with history or theory—but also scientific books, a lot of them pertaining to the themes of astronomy or physics. Not to mention the stacks of fictional books.

Cheeky was there also, curled up asleep upon a nearby dresser, nonetheless atop yet more sheet music.

Hearing the knock, Belle gently placed her violin and accompanying bow down on the table, before answering the door.

Inwardly, she groaned. Outwardly however, she tried to remain as polite as possible.

"Gaston. It's… you." She sighed, trying to avoid eye contact. Noticing his outfit, she then added, "On your way to a fancy dress party?"

Gaston barged in, hands clasped around his belt in a brash manner. "No, actually," he laughed with condescending dismissiveness, "I'm here to see you." He advanced slowly as he spoke, and with each step he made forward, Belle took an equal step backward.

Belle shrugged. "Why? You know what I look like."

Gaston laughed again, and eyed her lustfully. "Indeed."

At this comment, Belle made a mental note to herself. _I shouldn't set him up like that. The creep. _She placed a hand on the nearest wall in a casual manner, not wishing to let Gaston intimidate her.

As he confidently continued past the dresser, which included a vanity mirror, Gaston suddenly became distracted by his own reflection.

Belle gazed up at the ceiling, barely surprised. _Narcissus has a rival._

Cheeky awoke suddenly, and hissed in distaste of the visitor. He then leapt off and scurried up a flight of nearby stairs, no doubt to seek sanctuary in Belle's attic bedroom.

"Heh. What a cute cat," Gaston said, obviously lying, as he at last managed to stop gazing at himself. "Though I really prefer dogs myself. Big ones, they help with the hunting."

"You like to surround yourself with lots of _big_ things, don't you Gaston?" Belle quipped, at that moment thinking of Gaston's huge hunting gun.

"Yes, well, on to more important matters," Gaston began again, swaggering over to the music sheet-covered table. "Belle, I wonder if you can guess why I'm here?"

"I've never liked guessing games," she mused. "Hmmm. Although… I don't suppose you're here to tell me that you're leaving town, and want to say goodbye."

Gaston looked at her, slightly perplexed for a moment. Then he sat down, in Belle's chair, and plonked his muddy boots on the table—only centimetres from her violin.

"Ha! Not in a million years," he said, kicking his boots off. "Here, I want you to picture this," Gaston held his hands up, inviting Belle to imagine with him. "A rustic hunting lodge. A big, juicy boar roasting slowly over an open fire… you like boar meat, right? Bacon, pork?"

Belle glanced sideways, managing to contain a grimace of disgust. "Well, actually…"

"Of course you do!" The hunter boomed. "Who doesn't? But wait, it gets even better…"

"No, is that even possible?" Belle interrupted with sarcasm. Typically, Gaston ignored her remarks.

"Meanwhile all the Gaston Juniors will be playing on the floor with the in-training hunting dogs." Standing up again, he added, "They'll be nine or ten… a little Gaston army, heh heh."

"Dogs? Because I don't think Cheeky would appreciate that…" Belle glanced down at the table as she spoke. Gaston's feet had muddied up her music sheets. She shut her eyes tightly for a moment, trying to control her rising anger. Gaston's voice soon boomed through her thoughts, however.

"Ha! No, Belle. Nine or ten strapping boys like me. The Gaston Juniors! Our little army, remember?"

"Imagine that!" Belle replied, smiling through gritted teeth.

"I know!" Gaston laughed, still oblivious to the sarcasm. "We can begin work on creating the army as soon as we begin the honeymoon!" He smiled at her sleazily, but Belle tried to ignore the unpleasant connotations. She simply turned away and began to amble toward her overstuffed bookshelves.

"Of course, you must know I'm talking about you, Belle!" Gaston announced, as he lunged forward and placed his arms either side of her, attempting to prevent her escape, an uncomfortable Belle turning around to face him.

"Really? I didn't see that one coming," Belle remarked, quickly ducking underneath an arm and hastily making her way toward the front door.

Glancing out of a window just beside the door, Belle suddenly realised that several of Gaston's most loyal 'cronies' were situated in her front yard. Gaston had obviously invited them, assuming they would have an engagement announcement to witness.

Belle shook her head at the sight of the men. Gaston sure had some nerve to invite an audience. _Such insolence!_

Quickly, she composed herself once more. "It's strange, I really don't know what to say…" _I can't give a response that a lady would give, anyway…_

Again she avoided eye contact, but this was soon impossible as Gaston had shortly followed her directly to the front door and placed his hands on her waist, his face too close to hers for Belle's liking.

"Well there's only two answers you could possibly give," Gaston began, as one of his hands slid upwards, eventually finding Belle's breast. "And that's 'Yes!' or, '_Ohhh_ yes!'"

Disgusted, Belle pressed up against her front door as much as possible, fumbling behind her in a frenzied attempt to find the doorknob. When at last she did, Belle stated matter-of-factly, "I'm SO sorry to disappoint you Gaston, but the truth is I really don't deserve you. Besides, just think of what marrying an outcast like me would do to your reputation!"

By this time, Gaston's eyes had closed, as he leaned closer to Belle still, hoping to kiss her.

Belle however, grimaced as she turned the doorknob and ducked away in a rapid motion, gravity forcing Gaston to tumble head-first through the door , roll down the front porch steps, and splash face first into a nearby mud puddle, his backside sticking up in the air for all to see.

For a nice finishing touch, Belle hurled Gaston's boots out just after him, the muddied footwear smacking into his behind with swift accuracy. She glared at Gaston's accomplices momentarily before brightly shouting: "Have a nice day!" Belle then slammed the door shut, placing a hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming in anger once she was out of sight from the small crowd.

The young lads all stared at their muddied hero, silent and confused.

Finally, Gaston emerged from the mud, his eyes burning with anger, the anger of a man who had never been told 'no'. He was too angry to even feel humiliated, which he ought to.

Ramon, the most brazen of the group, shuffled forward. "So… it went well, then?"

Immediately, before Ramon even had time to think, Gaston had roughly grabbed him by the collar and slammed his face into the mud.

"I'm guessing…. 'no'," Christophe tentatively whispered to the others.

Without another word, Gaston then angrily stomped away, leaving behind a trail of bitter fury.

Soon, the others followed, including the muddied Ramon, with less conviction and haste than their idol.

Within moments, Belle's yard was empty again, and upon realising that this was the case, Belle peered outside her front door. Cheeky ran out a few steps in front of her, turning his head every which way to determine whether or not the coast was entirely clear.

"Are they gone?" Belle asked her cat before venturing outside also, when it was obvious that no one remained.

Grabbing a bucket near the front of her steps, one filled with scraps for the chickens, Belle decided to walk off her anger, whilst undertaking some chores at the same time.

"I can't believe it!" She complained to Cheeky as he trotted alongside her, "He wants me to marry him! Me! Marry _him_! What the…?" Belle threw some food down, almost violently, for the chickens as she spoke. "_Yes Gaston. _We're the perfect couple. Like _water_ and _oil_!"

As the chickens gathered near the food, Cheeky began to prance around them, but only in a playful manner. Noticing this, Belle decided to calm the chicken's unease at Cheeky's presence as well as try to take her mind off such unsavoury ideas such as Gaston's obsession with her by doing something she'd done for several years, ever since the gorgeous black ball of fluff entered her life.

Belle sprinted, around the side of the cottage, past the wishing well and small animal pen, and down her rather extensive backyard, with the full knowledge that Cheeky would follow and race her, as he always did.

By now it was mid-morning, another reasonably bright autumn day, though the air was considerably cooler than the day before.

Belle didn't stop until she reached the small lake that was joined to their land. She had won, outran Cheeky, as she usually did. The water of the lake sparkled beautifully in the morning sunshine and the field that surrounded her was equally as enchanting, filled with the red, brown and golden hues of late autumn, as trees continued to shed their leaves.

Ever since she was a child, this was Belle's favourite place. She often spent hours at a time out here, just relaxing by the lake, daydreaming, reading.

Cheeky, of course, was always with her, rolling in the grass or chasing nearby-flitting bugs.

On this day, Belle flopped onto her back with a heavy sigh. She looked up at the clouds dreamily, imagining what they might be from the shapes they had formed. A fluffy rabbit she managed to create from one formation, another she imagined to be the face of a storybook witch, with a long, pointed nose complete with essential wart.

Cheeky, having caught up, pounced on Belle's outspread, medium-long length hair. She laughed, before sitting back up, cross-legged.

Picking up her cat for a cuddle, she stared vacantly out toward the glittering lake. "Oh, Cheeky boy," she began to explain to her feline friend, "I know I'll never be happy living the life that all the other villagers think I should. The life that all the other villagers _do _live."

Cheeky began to purr, as he often did, headbutting Belle's chin with gentle, ticklish force.

"I never want to be married, or have children… least of all with Gaston! Do you think that makes me strange?"

Cheeky just continued to purr and nuzzle.

"Sometimes… I don't know, I just feel… so… trapped…"

She glanced down at her feline companion, then out toward the distant horizon across the shimmering water once more. Sadness filled her eyes.

She loved her father and Cheeky more than anything in the world, but there were times, empty, aching times, when Belle felt undeniably and uncontrollably… alone. This was one such time.

Cheeky looked up, staring into Belle's eyes with his large, golden own. He noticed a single tear escape to trickle down his master's face, and playfully batted at it. Belle laughed softly, scruffing up his face affectionately. "You always know how to cheer me up, huh?"

Belle's bittersweet thoughts and Cheeky's progressively louder purring were suddenly interrupted by a sound familiar to both of them—Phillipe's whinny.

He was galloping across the field towards them, clearly exhausted and distressed.

Belle felt her stomach jump when she realised the Clydesdale had returned alone. Quickly standing, she raced over to him, Cheeky close behind. "Phillipe, what happened? Where's Papa?" She asked the horse, panic-stricken. Phillipe snorted anxiously, bucking a little. Belle knew that something must have really spooked the great horse.

She felt her heart racing, full of fear that something terrible might have happened to her father.

Unhitching the cart that still carried Maurice's invention, Belle leapt astride the faithful horse. As often he did when Belle rode Phillipe, Cheeky also leapt up, carefully sitting just at the base of Phillipe's neck, closely snuggling into Belle.

Stopping briefly back at the cottage to fetch her hooded cloak, not knowing how long indeed the search would take, Belle then leapt astride once again, determined not to end her quest until she located her father.

"I don't care how long it takes, I'm going to find him! Let's go, Phillipe!"

Belle flicked the reins, signalling for Phillipe to begin their search.

* * *

"Where are we?" Belle asked in wonder as she stared at the largely unused iron gates that acted as the entrance to a grand, looming castle. "Do you think anyone lives here? It looks pretty run down…"

Phillipe had managed to retrace his steps until he had reached the scene of the wolf chase. Belle had then searched in every direction nearby until she finally came upon a clue as to her father's whereabouts.

This was the most positive discovery yet; if indeed her father was inside this castle, there was a great chance that he had survived the night. She only hoped that he wasn't injured, either by wolves or by some accident, or that he hadn't fallen ill.

There would be daylight for several hours yet, so Belle knew that the wolf threat was minimum.

Eager to explore this mysterious castle, she leapt off Phillipe, as Cheeky then also did.

Aided by his love for Belle and her gentle, spirited encouragement, Phillipe had managed to successfully navigate the woods this time, despite his exhaustion and paranoid fears.

She patted him gratefully, then led him into the castle grounds via grasp of his reins. Once she closed the gate shut behind them, she murmured, "You can rest now, Phillipe," before beginning her investigation of the current locale.

Immediately, she spotted her father's cloak, lying on the ground only a few foot in front of her, the piece of clothing tattered and torn.

"Papa…" Belle quietly said to herself, with concern in her voice, mainly due to the cloak's semi-destroyed state.

"Let's go check inside, Cheeky!" She then ordered her cat, before boldly entering the castle, leaving Phillipe to replenish his strength with the assorted weeds of the castle's foregrounds.

* * *

"Geez mon!" Sebastian sighed as he paced back and forth atop a small wooden table, near Maurice's allotted room in the east wing. "I thought he said he'd leave first thing in the morning! It's almost three o'clock, you know!"

"Whoa! Chill out, Sebastian," Scuttle retaliated, also perched on the wooden table, situated in one of the castle's many hallways. "He just needed a really long sleep is all. You heard how snuffly he was last night. I'm sure he'll be leaving any moment now."

"Humph! He had better be." Sebastian stated angrily, crossing his pincers for the umpteenth time since Maurice had arrived.

Below the floor where the seagull and crab were currently situated, in the castle's main foyer, Belle and Cheeky wandered about, searching worriedly.

"Hello…? Is anyone here? Papa…?" Belle called out, looking around at the foyer's several exits. Unsure of which to take, she eventually decided to ascend the grand staircase.

Despite the daylight enlightening the castle's décor splendidly, Belle took little notice of the details of her surroundings. She had one thing on her mind only: finding her father.

"This place is huge! It could take us forever to find him… if indeed he is here," Belle spoke to Cheeky, who stayed close to her side, unsure and a little uneasy by these unfamiliar surroundings.

As she entered each new—but alas, empty—room, Belle continued to call out for her father: "Papa? Are you here? It's Belle! Where are you? Please, I hope you're OK…"

Incidentally, Belle's direction choice was leading her to the west wing, in fact the opposite side of the castle to where her father was located.

As she briskly walked down one of the numerous halls that linked the rooms of the enormous castle, Belle unwittingly strode right past Tip, the penguin, and Dash, the walrus.

The arctic pair froze in shock as the unknown human passed them. Peering out from the side room in which they were currently amusing themselves, playing a game of cards nonetheless, Tip and Dash gasped in horror as the watched the human and the small furry creature with her inch closer and closer to the west wing.

"What the…? It's a girl! A _human_ girl!" Dash gaped, bearing his impressive tusks.

"Yeah, I know it is, genius," Tip sarcastically remarked. "But what is that other thing?"

"They're heading for the west wing!" Dash continued to gape, ignoring his friend's question. "Whadda we do? Whadda we do?"

"Whoa, whoa, easy my blubbery friend," Tip answered, remaining relatively calm. "The only thing we can do! We'll, ummm, we'll…" Despite his enthusiasm, Tip was vacant for ideas. "Geez, where's the crab when you need him?"

"I haven't seen Sebastian, or Scuttle, since yesterday afternoon…" Dash suddenly realised, raising a flipper to his mouth.

"Well, it's no problem. We'll handle this situation ourselves." Tip said with confidence, puffing out his chest.

He, along with Dash, rounded the corner from their room to the adjoining hall—only to find that the mysterious intruders had disappeared.

"Oh no!" Dash panicked. "They've already gone up the stairs—into the west wing!"

"Geez! This is worse than the time that gang of crazy barracudas chased us. Let's go, blubber boy!" Tip ordered, leading the chase to apprehend the unwanted strangers.

Upstairs, Belle, with Cheeky, wondered along yet another hallway, this one filled with meticulously clean marble statues—some appealing in their appearance, others not so. Belle also passed a head-and-shoulders high circular mirror hanging upon the wall, a sudden thought striking her.

_This castle seems empty… I haven't seen a single soul. But this mirror, along with everything else inside the castle, seems to be pretty clean…_

This realisation was disturbed by a sound indicating movement—and it seemed to come from a room just ahead, behind a great pair of emerald green doors.

Intrigued, Belle rushed toward the doors. She was certain someone must be on the other side of those doors—someone who might know the whereabouts of her father.

"Hello?" Belle called out, standing just outside the large doors. "I'm looking for my father, I have a fair idea he's somewhere within this castle… can you help me?"

Ariel had been dusting her room, as she did fairly often. Cleaning was one of the few pastimes she pursued to help her escape from reality.

Upon hearing a stranger's voice however, just outside her bedroom door in fact, Ariel froze in terror.

_What __is a human doing here? What did she say? That her father was in the castle? How ridiculous! No humans ever came here. That's why this place is so wonderful…_

A thousand thoughts raced through the mermaid princesses' mind, as she stood rigidly still, hoping against hope that the human would retreat. Much to her dismay though, the human spoke again, also knocking on the door this time.

"Hello? Is there anyone in there? Please! I'm so worried about my father…"

Ariel felt a sudden pang of heartache. She often thought of her own father, and how she had recklessly disobeyed him. Was fate playing a cruel joke, tormenting her with the presence of a human girl, searching for her own father?

Realising the dire situation she was now in once more, Ariel quickly snapped out of these sad memories however. She had wished to remain silent, but this human seemed persistent.

_Any moment now, she could come barging through the bedroom door. That's what humans __are like, thinking they have the right to do as they please_...

Quietly, but sternly, Ariel said, "Go away."

Belle's eyes lit up. So there _was_ someone in there. She hadn't been imagining things. Determined, Belle pleaded with the unfriendly female voice.

"Please, I'm really worried about my father. He's not in the best of health… If you know anything could you please…"

"Go away!" Ariel repeated, a little louder this time, frustration becoming present in her voice.

Belle unwittingly took a single step backward. There was a haunting sadness evident in this stranger's trembling voice, noticeable even beyond the annoyed frustration.

"Ummm…" For a moment, Belle decided to pursue a different topic. "Who are you?" She queried, her voice gentle.

"That's none of your business," Ariel shot back, her voice cracking a little as she became more obviously upset. "Please, just leave!"

"I was just asking," Belle replied, shrugging her shoulders slightly. She looked down at Cheeky with confused eyes. _What should I do?_

Regaining her focus, Belle began to speak again, ensuring her tone was as mild and non-threatening as possible. "Please hear me out… my name is Belle, and my father is Maurice. He's quite short and a little… overweight. I found his cloak just outside... If you've seen him, please let me know…"

"I don't care!" Ariel suddenly shouted, refusing to back down an inch. She was convinced that all humans were cruel and evil, and wanted nothing more to do with them_. I don't even want to see another human, ever!_ "This is _my _home, and you're not welcome here! Just get out of here and leave me alone!"

Disappointed, Belle took another step backward. She was curious, but didn't want to upset this girl any more than she already was. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"And just whaddaya think you're doing, human girl?"

Another voice distracted Belle from behind—only this voice belonged to a male. Belle turned around, expecting to be confronted by a man—but instead she came to realise that she was being reprimanded by a penguin, sitting atop a walrus's head.

Belle's jaw fell open in shock. She backed up toward the large, emerald green doors, bumping into them. Cheeky also stared in amazement, barely blinking.

"Hey, get away from there!" The walrus spoke this time.

Belle searched her mind for a logical explanation, but couldn't find one. She also searched for a cohesive sentence, but failed there also, stammering, "I, uh… what?"

"You think you can just waltz right in here?" The penguin began again. "You've got some nerve, lady!"

Listening from behind her bedroom doors, Ariel felt a rush of relief when she heard the voices of Tip and Dash. She was certain they would rid the castle of this unwanted human intruder.

"But, I… uh… ummm, this is…" Belle continued to stammer, Cheeky to stare.

"What's a matter? Can't you speak proper Enger-lish? Human is dumb!" Tip insulted, a smirk growing across his beak.

This comment, at last, roused Belle's mind to speak with cohesion, despite her shock. "Hey! I happen to be very well versed. Shall I recite some Shakespeare?" Tip and Dash merely stared blankly as Belle continued, "Ahem, uh… 'To be or not to be? That is the question. Whether it is…'"

Belle abruptly stopped herself. A switch suddenly flicked within her brain as she realised exactly what she was doing. _I'm reciting the words of the great Bard to a penguin and a walrus. _

"I don't know what you're going on about," Tip said, interrupting Belle's thoughts, "But you really should leave. Now. And don't even think about coming back, ever."

"Yeah!" Dash agreed, beginning to scowl. "You're upsetting Ariel. And we don't like it when humans upset Ariel!"

Tip groaned, glaring down at his friend from atop his head. "Thanks for that, Dash. Mister-I-spill-my-guts-to-total-strangers."

"Oops," Dash's expression was now one of uneasy guilt.

"Ariel?" Belle repeated, almost in a whisper, as she glanced behind herself.

Cheeky looked up at his master. He was clearly not at ease with the presence of these two strange creatures—especially the rather hefty walrus. Belle noticed this, and picked her beloved cat up, cradling him in her arms. "It's OK, Cheeky boy," she softly soothed, before focusing her attention back toward Tip and Dash. "Alright, I'll search for my father elsewhere in the castle. I'm sorry to have bothered you… and Ariel."

With these words, Belle shot another quick glance behind herself, before beginning to move forward. She made her way cautiously around the walrus and penguin, unsure of their agenda. The normally sea-dwelling pair glared at Belle the whole time, until she had disappeared back down the staircase and from their sight.

Immediately, Dash's frown eased. "You know Tip, She didn't seem so bad." He confessed to his friend.

"You're a sucker for a pretty face, huh?" Tip sighed, placing his fins on his hips. "Trust me pal, she's human, and that's bad enough."

"I… guess so," Dash half-heartedly agreed.

Just then, Ariel cautiously emerged from the safety of her bedroom. "Is she gone?"

"Yes, your highness," Dash answered with courtesy.

"Yeah, no problem, princess. We showed that human who was boss! Bam, pow!" Dash rolled his eyes at Tip's enthused exaggeration.

Ariel breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, you guys," She smiled a warm smile, embracing them both. "I don't know what I would've done without you." She complimented upon releasing them again.

"Ah, it was nothing," Tip felt his beak blush.

"I was so scared," Ariel confessed. "I thought she was going to come right into my bedroom…"

"Not while we were here!" Tip puffed out his chest with pride.

Dash looked up at him, then at Ariel, confused. "What did she want, anyway?"

* * *

"Papa?" Belle called out, continuing her search once more, this time on the opposite side of the castle. "Are you here?"

It wasn't long before she was in earshot of Maurice's self-proclaimed guardians, Sebastian and Scuttle.

"Did you hear that?" The crab asked anxiously. "It's ANOTHER human! Oh, mon. This just keeps getting better!" He huffed in sarcasm.

Soon, Belle rounded the corner leading into the hallway were Sebastian and Scuttle were situated.

"Whoa!" Scuttle's beak fell open as he stared at the second intruder. "It's like they're all crawlin' outta the woodwork, or somethin'." The seagull's gaze then suddenly landed upon the furry creature walking alongside the human girl's feet. "AARRGHHHH! WHAT IS THAT THING DOIN' HERE?" Scuttle panicked, flapping his wings in a frenzy.

He may not have been the brightest seagull in existence, but he did seem to know one important fact: that cats, generally speaking, were the natural enemies of birds.

"Sebastian! Let's get outta here, QUICK!"

"Alright, alright. Geez, mon. I thought _I_ was the uptight one…" Sebastian shook his head briefly, but Scuttle soon whisked him away, clutching the crab between his webbed feet.

Due to their desperate escape, Belle never even laid eyes on the pair. She did, however, finally receive the answer she had been hoping for.

Behind a single door nearby, she heard her father's voice: "Belle?"

"Papa!" Belle exclaimed, rushing to the nearby door. Flinging it open, she was greeted by her father. He was a little drowsy, but by and large, safe and sound.

"Papa! Thank goodness you're alright! I was so worried…" She raced over, embracing him tightly.

"Belle?" Maurice asked again, barely able to breathe due to the force of Belle's squeeze. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought something had happened to you! When Phillipe arrived home this morning without you, I feared the worst…" Belle explained, at last releasing her loving grip, Maurice breathing a sigh of relief when she did so. He was certain his daughter didn't know her own strength!

"You mean Phillipe's OK? Thank goodness. But you didn't need to come all the way here, Belle. In fact, I was just about to begin my way home."

The happily re-united pair then fell silent for a moment. Neither of them knew how to broach the subject: that they had both encountered talking sea creatures.

Finally, Belle quietly began, "Uh, Papa? Did you notice anything… strange about this place?"

Maurice's eyes grew wide. He was glad he wasn't the first to speak, lest he be deemed insane in his daughter's eyes. "You mean…talking sea creatures?" He said slowly, his voice steady.

"Yes!" Belle grew an excited smile. "And this mysterious girl, named Ariel…"

"You saw Ariel?" Maurice interrupted, slightly dumbfounded.

"Well, not exactly…" Belle's voice seemed disappointed. "But I did speak to her. She seems… frightened. She wanted me to leave her alone. I wonder what happened to her, to make her like that…" With these words, she became lost in thought, her face full of concern.

Maurice frowned. He suddenly recalled Scuttle's words from the night before. "There was a seagull," Maurice began to Belle, "and he said that Ariel was a mermaid. I wonder if that has anything to do with it…"

Immediately, Belle snapped to attention, her eyes wide. "What? A …_mermaid_? But that's… that's impossible!" She shook her head, in disbelief, before pondering all aspects of the situation in silence. Maurice shrugged, silent also.

Upon a brief reflection, Belle had to admit, it did seem to make sense, as unbelievable as it was.

"You know," Belle spoke softly to her father, "That _would _explain a lot of things. The sea creatures, for one. You and I both know that the nearest ocean is miles away."

"You're right," Maurice agreed. "But still, it all seems so… amazing. I really thought I had lost the plot when the crab and the seagull started talking to me. Heh heh!"

Belle was surprised. "A crab and a seagull?" She had become confused once more. "I was confronted by a penguin and a walrus. They seemed angry, wanting me to leave the castle, and Ariel, alone. I guess they really don't like humans…"

"Hmmm. That's the impression I got from the other two. Well, the crab anyway. The seagull was fairly friendly." As Maurice finished his sentence, he noticed Belle gazing almost sadly toward the bedroom door, in the direction of the opposite side of the castle; namely, the west wing.

"Well," Maurice sighed, "I guess we better be heading home. We'll want to make through the woods by nightfall…"

"Yeah," Belle said, her tone melancholy, her gaze not shifting.

Maurice locked his arm with hers as a sign of paternal affection. "Come on, sweetheart. My, won't we have a story to tell though? I doubt I'll forget about this place in a hurry!"

With that, Maurice and Belle, not to forget Cheeky, navigated their way to the castle's entrance by the most direct route possible.

Phillipe had not moved far from where Belle had left him—after a snack of weeds, he had decided to laze in the late autumn afternoon sun.

Upon seeing Maurice, Phillipe rose to his powerful legs, greeting the old man with a joyful whinny, obviously relieved to see him alive.

"Yes, m'boy, it's good to see you too!" Maurice stroked the great steed's mane. Then, Phillipe kindly lowered himself so the less than athletic Maurice could climb upon his back with ease.

As soon as he sensed Maurice was comfortable, Phillipe stood once more, knowing Belle would have no such trouble mounting him.

But Belle was reluctant to leap astride Phillipe. She shuffled anxiously, then looked up at her father with troubled eyes. Maurice could tell, as plain as the day, that something was on his daughter's mind.

"What's the matter, Belle?" He asked quietly. Belle remained silent for some time, as if she herself knew not what to say.

"I don't know…" Belle spoke very softly, glancing back toward the castle. "It's just that… I don't know, but... Papa, did you see how many fireplaces there were inside the castle?"

Admittedly, Maurice found that question a trifle odd. "Yes," he answered slowly, not quite sure exactly what Belle was thinking in asking that question. "Almost one in every room. Quite a grand place!"

"Yes," Belle agreed, "but… did you see any firewood?"

Come to think of it, Maurice hadn't. Not even near the extraordinarily large fireplace that decorated the castle's main foyer.

"No, actually." He couldn't help but smile a silly, lopsided smile. "Sweetheart, you are certainly more observant than I."

Managing a faint smile also, Belle playfully jabbed her father in the leg. "That's because I'm _young_."

Maurice chuckled, but Belle immediately grew serious once more.

"You have to admit, it does seem a little odd. I mean, winter is approaching fast, and…"

Maurice smiled knowingly and nodded. At last, he had a fair idea as to what was the reason for Belle's concern.

"This is going to sound crazy, Papa… but I feel I should…"

"Stay?" Maurice finished his daughter's sentence. Belle shrugged and glanced downward.

"Maybe just for a few days," she quietly said, without looking up.

"You're concerned about Ariel," Maurice stated what was now obvious. Belle glanced up at her father again, sighing heavily.

"You didn't hear her voice, Papa. She was terrified. A young girl, in that castle, all alone… Who knows what she's been through? And if she really is a mermaid, or ever _has_ been, I'm guessing she doesn't even know how to light a fire... as strange as that sounds. She'll freeze in the coming weeks…"

Maurice looked at his daughter fondly. He was proud, proud of the compassionate and caring young woman that was his flesh and blood._Going out of her way to help a stranger_.

"You do what you think is right," was all he said, trying to keep any emotion from his voice.

"Oh Papa, I knew you'd understand." She embraced him once more, though she only managed to reach his waist with her arms, as Maurice was still atop Phillipe's back. "You'll be alright, though?"

"I'll be fine!" Maurice rolled his eyes playfully. "You really do fuss too much! I'm quite capable of looking after myself, you know."

"I know," Belle smiled. "At least with your new invention, wood chopping will be a breeze."

"_Our _new invention," Maurice corrected her, smiling his warmest smile.

"Whatever," Belle said, blushing a little.

"Well," Maurice sighed, a sad expression growing upon his face, "I guess I better be going. Don't want to be lost in the woods at night again!"

"OK, Papa. Please take care. I guess I'll see you in a few days…" Belle too, was also feeling a little despondent at this time. "Certainly no more than a week…"

As Maurice rode out through the iron gates and into the woods once more, he called out, "Goodbye, Belle. I love you!"

"I love you too," Belle answered, though Maurice wouldn't have heard, as Belle had spoken quite softly, mainly to herself in fact.

As always, her loyal cat sat beside her feet. "Come on Cheeky, let's go and see if we can find some firewood," she sighed to her feline friend once her father had disappeared from sight.

_I won't stay more than a week…_


	5. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**"Human Intruder"**

"I don't see any sign of her, princess," Tip, the loyal penguin, reported upon returning to Ariel. Unusually, Ariel had ventured out into the castle's main foyer for reasons other than cleaning. Currently, she stood at the top of the grand staircase, her hands clasping the railing as she leaned slightly over it. Tip was racing up the stairs as he spoke, having searched the castle as thoroughly as possible. "Looks like that crazy human girl is gone for good."

Ariel breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Poseidon. I thought no human would have ever come here…" Her posture slumped a little with that comment. "Well, I guess it's safe. Thanks again, guys." She smiled at her friends—both Tip, and Dash, who was resting beside her and peering through the bars of the staircase's railing.

"Hey, Ariel!"

They all turned to greet the familiar voice, belonging to Scuttle. Still carrying Sebastian, he landed the crab as gently as possible atop the railing, just near one of Ariel's hands, before perching there himself, beside Sebastian.

"How 'ya doin', kid?"

"Fine, now," Ariel answered the seagull. "Say…" she then eyed both the crab and the seagull carefully as she spoke, "…did you two know there was a human in the castle?"

Sebastian and Scuttle looked at each other with guilt-ridden faces.

"A human, huh? What kinda human, exactly?" Scuttle asked his own question, being as vague as he usually was.

Sebastian however, was not very adept at lying, even to avoid upsetting his beloved princess. "It was all his fault!" He blurted out, pointing a pincer at Scuttle. "I was against it from the start! I knew you wouldn't like it, because humans are bad, they are trouble, but Scuttle was all, 'the old man is lost and wet, and…'"

"Old man?" Ariel cut him off. Sebastian's pincer flew up to his mouth once he realised he had said too much. "What are you talking about? The human I'm talking about was a girl."

"Yeah, and she was a bit of a nutcase," Tip added, remembering Belle's Shakespeare soliloquy.

"Old man?" Sebastian repeated, growing an even guiltier smile. "Who said anything about any old man?" He turned to Scuttle. "Did I say something about an old man? Heh heh…"

Scuttle was unaware of Sebastian's attempted cover-up. He simply and blatantly said, "Yeah, just a second ago." Sebastian then groaned at the seagull's stupidity.

"Guys," Ariel caught their attention again, unable to contain a bemused smile due to her friends' behaviour, "Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something from me?"

"Hiding… something?" Sebastian's guilty grin immediately returned. Before he could concoct another paltry excuse however, Ariel and the quartet of sea creatures were startled to hear the castle's front door creak open.

Ariel's smile quickly disappeared. She, along with the others, watched in fear and surprise as Belle re-entered the castle, followed closely by Cheeky.

"_Ohhh_," Scuttle realised at last, "You mean her? Yeah, I saw her before. She has a…" Scuttle spotted Cheeky once more, and felt himself panic. "WHOA! SHE HAS A… A… CAT! THE _HORROR_! AAAAARRGHHH!"

Not seeming to notice Scuttle's frenzied state, a panic-stricken Ariel whispered to Tip, "I thought you said she was gone!"

Scuttle's yelling had caught Belle's attention, much to Ariel's dismay. As Belle glanced up at them, smiling nervously and giving a little wave, Ariel felt herself become frozen in terror. She stared at Belle for a long moment, almost vacantly, not even realising that Belle was quickly ascending the stairs toward them.

Noticing the frightened expression on the young woman's face however, Belle thought it best to halt halfway through her staircase climb. "Uh, hi…" She greeted softly, giving another little wave. "I'm guessing... you're Ariel?"

Ariel simply stared in response, her mouth slightly agape.

"Psst, princess," Dash whispered from Ariel's side, "Whaddaya want us to do?"

After Dash spoke, silence remained for a long time. In this extended silence, Belle studied the mysterious girl at the top of the staircase carefully. She was painfully thin, with a luxurious length of cascading auburn hair. Her eyes, sapphire blue and large, were filled with fright and sorrow, and her complexion was flawless and very pale, almost porcelain-like.

Belle felt her heart grow heavy. This poor girl appeared as though she had not enjoyed a decent meal in days, possibly weeks. And although Ariel was staring directly at the human intruder, she took little note of Belle's appearance. It was as though she was staring through Belle—seeing only another heartless human, an invader of her home; a threat.

Soon, Belle began to ascend the stairs once more, this time very slowly, cautious not to spook Ariel any more so.

At last, Ariel reacted, sprinting off down the hallway toward the west wing, no doubt to the safe haven of her room.

Belle began to run after her, calling out, "Wait! I just want to talk to you…"

But before Belle even reached the top of the staircase, Tip bellowed out, "CHARGE!" and promptly slid down the staircase railing in an attempt to apprehend Belle. However, zooming down a little faster than he anticipated, Tip quickly zipped right past, landing upon the exquisite tiles of the castle foyer's polished floor with a thud.

"Oh mon!" Sebastian groaned, still balancing on the staircase railing. "What a flightless fool."

"Are you alright?" Belle inquired of the penguin, as she too returned to the bottom of the stairs.

Bending over to inspect Tip's condition, Belle was suddenly startled when Tip leapt to his webbed feet, and assumed a martial arts pose. "I'm warnin' 'ya, crazy human girl! These fins will thrash you!"

Belle couldn't help but giggle. The feisty penguin was quite adorable, and in an attempt to calm him and command his full attention, Belle gently picked him up with both hands.

Cheeky watched on from several feet away, still a little apprehensive of these bizarre, talking creatures.

"What are 'ya doin'?" Tip asked in a demanding tone, beginning to squirm desperately. "Lemme go! Lemme go! HELP! YOU GUYS!" He yelled to the remaining three still atop the stairs, "SHE'S GONNA EAT ME!"

Dash was the first to respond. He bounded down the stairs, ready for action. He stopped abruptly however, only a few inches from the human, upon realising that Belle was only patting Tip's head.

"I'm not going to eat you," Belle told the penguin, Dash also listening. "I just want to talk to you."

"Way to over-exaggerate, Tip!" Dash scolded his friend, frowning a little as he did so. Sebastian was on his way to join them also, scurrying down the stairs. Scuttle however, was happy to remain as far away from Cheeky as possible.

Tip stared eye to eye with the human. "You're seriously NOT going to eat me?"

"Yecch! No way," Belle replied, grimacing in disgust. "To tell you the truth, I'm a vegetarian."

"A _what_-atarian?" Tip asked, puzzled.

"A veterinarian?" Sebastian queried as he made his way over.

Dash also had a go. "An octogenarian?"

Belle looked down at the walrus, puzzled and slightly offended. "Do I _look _like an octogenarian?"

Dash had absolutely no idea of what the word even meant. He had obviously just plucked it from somewhere within his memory. "Uhhhhh…" was all he managed in reply.

"Anyway, I'm a _vegetarian_," Belle stated again, "which means I don't eat meat of any kind. Not even penguin!" She then laughed, placing Tip back upon the floor.

"Uh, OK. I knew that." Tip lied.

"Are you serious, mon?" Sebastian stared up at the tall, lean woman. "You don't eat fish?"

"Nope," Belle replied. "No animal of any kind… even though I live on a farmlet, heh…" _Which is one of the reasons why the villagers must think I'm so strange_.

Although he was still upon the staircase railing, Scuttle was in earshot. "What about bugs?" He called out with genuine interest.

"Uhhhh…" Belle was a little surprised by the question, though she couldn't help but smile up at the seagull. "No, definitely no bugs. Although, Cheeky has been known to snack on them occasionally…"

Sebastian was in truth impressed, but not enough for his cold demeanour to lessen. "Humph. Well, you're still human. I still don't trust you."

"Why should you?" Belle said matter-of-factly. "We've only just met."

"So, _anyways_," Tip re-directed the conversation, "What did you want to talk to us about?"

"Huh? Oh…" Belle suddenly remembered what she had wished to ask. "I wanted to talk to you about Ariel. Why is she so…"

"That's not any of your business!" Sebastian snapped.

"Sorry," Belle immediately apologised, slightly discouraged. "It's just that… I didn't see any firewood around, and I wandered if she was capable of looking after herself in the winter. It can get very cold here…"

"Why should _you_ care?" Tip interrupted.

By now, Belle was growing a little impatient with the relentless opposition she was facing from these creatures. "Look, I don't mean any harm, OK? Please, just let me speak to Ariel. I'm sure if I explain things to her…"

"Definitely not!" Belle was interrupted by Sebastian again, and for the third time in total.

"Alright, fine!" Belle threw up her hands. "I'll look for firewood anyway. I'm only trying to help, you know!" She turned away, ready to begin her firewood search. "Come on, Cheeky! We've got work to do." Belle then called out to her cat, before quickly leaving the castle's foyer in favour of the nearest room, not speaking another word to Sebastian, Tip or Dash.

"Firewood?" Tip threw up his fins. "What the heck is that?"

"Who knows?" Sebastian wondered aloud. "Probably some human code word for a fish-slaughtering death machine! Just because she says she won't eat us doesn't mean she won't cook us for other humans to eat!"

"Yeah, I'm sure _that's_ what it is," Dash commented sarcastically, growing a little angry at both Tip and Sebastian. "I still say she's not all that bad! At least, for a human…"

* * *

After searching the castle for quite some time, the process of elimination eventually led Belle to explore the bowels of the castle; namely, the boiler room.

There, Belle was glad to find not one axe, but several, as well as a minimal supply of firewood already stacked and awaiting use.

It was obvious no-one had ventured here in years; cobwebs draped all over the walls, not to mention the ageing wood stacks. Belle shuddered momentarily when she thought of the hideous arachnids that could be lurking amongst the wood piles—spiders were certainly not amongst her favourite creatures.

Still, she inspected the room, more particularly the fire fodder, a little more closely. It was evident, Belle decided, that there was barely enough fire wood remaining here to burn on a single fireplace for more than a week—therefore she would have to explore the castle grounds for further supply.

Picking up the least rust-covered and sharpest axe she could find, Belle left the boiler room once more and began to search for the castle's nearest exit.

"Come on Cheeky, time to go outside. We'll gather as much as we can by nightfall." She called to her cat which he, of course, obeyed. Cheeky would be happy for some fresh air and frolic time before night fell, bringing with it the bitter cold night air and unexplainable noises.

Relieved to still be wearing her hooded cloak as the cool afternoon air greeted her once she ventured outdoors, Belle immediately began her search.

The castle grounds were fairly barren—there were few trees. Despite this, a determined Belle searched the yard thoroughly. She didn't wish to quit until she gathered enough firewood to last, in her mind, another week. Perhaps after these two weeks or so, she would then return to the castle and venture into the nearby forest in search of yet more firewood.

As Belle explored the western section of the castle grounds, she was completely oblivious to the fact that she was being watched.

High above, from the safe confines of her room, Ariel stared down at the human girl and her strange pet. Not even daring to venture out onto her balcony, Ariel looked through a large, diagonally cross-sectioned plate glass window, resting her right hand against the glass as she sat on her favourite chair.

"What is she doing?" Ariel asked Scuttle in a curious tone.

Scuttle was sitting upon the window sill, peering down in wonder. "I don't know, sweetie," the seagull replied. "It seems like she's looking for something."

"For what?" Ariel sighed. "What could possibly be of interest to her here?" She let out another, more exasperated sigh. "Why can't she just go home… and leave us alone…?"

Noticing that Ariel was visibly upset, Scuttle could only shrug in reply.

Down below, Belle had encountered one of the grounds' few trees. Like all the others she had seen, it was tiny, withering and pathetic.

"Look at it, Cheeky!" She complained to her cat. "It's just a stick _impersonating_ a tree! And doing a pretty lousy job of it, too."

Belle placed her axe on the ground. "I won't even _need _this," she stated of the axe, before clasping her hands around the lower trunk of the 'tree', intending to uproot it. Cheeky watched non-chalantly as his master strained, trying to pull the roots free from the cold, hard earth. But they grew deep—deeper than Belle assumed.

With another fierce tug, her hands lost their grip, and she tumbled backwards, somewhat comically.

"_Ow!_"

Cheeky failed to move. His master was not a stranger to random acts of clumsiness, so he knew there was no cause for concern.

Above them, Scuttle couldn't help but laugh as he watched. Ariel however, was less amused. She simply shook her head and muttered, "What a silly human."

Sitting up on the cold ground, though not wishing to stand yet, Belle placed her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. As often he did when Belle was closer to his eye level, Cheeky walked over, beginning his loudly reverberating purr.

"Oh Cheeky," Belle sighed, reaching out to stroke him as he became close enough, "this is hopeless. There's not a decent tree in the entire castle grounds!" With another sigh, she stood up, picking up the nearby axe as she did so. "I might have to search the forest sooner than I thought…"

Dispirited, she slung the unused axe over her shoulder, and began to trudge back inside.

Once she was out of Ariel's vision range, the mermaid princess turned to face Scuttle. "Do you think she's actually leaving? Or… coming back inside?"

"I hate to say it," Scuttle began, "but I think she's coming back into the castle… with her c-c, her c-c-c-…"

Scuttle was not really frightened of Belle. Having witnessed the incident with Tip earlier, he thought her to be fairly nice for a human. Cheeky however, terrified Scuttle, and he wished Belle would leave simply because the cat would leave with her. He had no way to know as yet that Cheeky was docile, not to mention lazy, by nature.

"Coming back into the castle?" Ariel repeated, slumping forward as she remained seated upon her chaise. "Doesn't she realise she's not welcome here? How many times does she have to be told…"

Turning her body sideways, Ariel lifted her feet up to rest upon the regal-looking chaise lounge, which was built upon a cast iron frame and was adorned with lush green velvet to cover the cushioning.

Now facing parallel to the window that she had just been gazing out of, Ariel caught glimpse of her enchanted sea-rose, which stood suspended in midair—magically—under a glass bell jar, atop a nearby wooden table of simple design.

The flower glowed with a mystical purple light, a somewhat dull light that managed to enlighten the entire room in complete darkness—if only dimly.

Ariel noticed that the sea-rose was drooping and missing several petals—it would not be long now before the spell cast upon her ended, and she would return to her original form. Ariel knew, along with her four sea creature friends, that this was a death sentence—though none of them spoke of this fact, choosing instead to avoid the subject.

Ariel had just about accepted her fate—that when she became a mermaid once more, she would survive for only several hours out of sea water. Tragically, she was merely biding her time until these events came to pass, and though her quartet of friends inwardly felt great sorrow, they tried to remain positive and cheerful on the outside, largely for Ariel's benefit. In truth however, this was of little comfort to the mermaid princess.

The only thing that consoled her at all was her painting. Without it, she would have become far more detached and filled with despair than she already was.

It was by great luck that she had found a plethora of art supplies hidden within the castle not too long after she had made the place her home, and still up until this day she spent many hours sketching and painting. Admittedly at first she was intrigued as to why human art staples were so similar to those she had used under the sea, but now she ignored the fact and simply painted when the inspiration arose.

Ariel was so transfixed by the shimmering violet sea-rose as she became lost in her own thoughts that she failed to notice just how many moments had passed. Suddenly, she was snapped back to reality by an unexpected knock on her bedroom door. Even Scuttle flinched at the interruption to the long silence, squawking in surprise.

"Who is it?" Ariel asked in a hopeful voice, expecting the respondent to be either Sebastian, Tip or Dash. She had guessed wrong, however.

"It's Belle," came a cheerful answer from the other side of Ariel's bedroom door.

Ariel shut her eyes tightly a placed a hand upon her forehead, distressed. "What do you want?"

"Well… I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is, I found some firewood in the castle's boiler room, although it's old and there's not much of it. The bad news is, the castle grounds are practically empty, so if you want me to get more, I'll have to venture into the woods… which I don't mind of course, I was going to anyway, just not so soon…"

"_What_ are you talking about?" Ariel finally said, cutting off Belle's rapid sentence flow.

Belle remained silent for a moment, before beginning to explain herself. "Oh? Ummm, sorry. It's just that, I noticed there was no firewood anywhere in the castle before, when I was looking for my father, and I thought…"

"Firewood?" Ariel repeated, unsure of what Belle had meant. She shook her head slightly, before placing her hand upon her forehead once more. "Well, I don't need your help," she then informed Belle sternly.

"But…" Belle began quietly, "the winter here can be very harsh. And the air has been very brisk lately… Don't you ever feel… cold?"

Ariel didn't answer. She hoped that if she remained silent from this point, Belle would just give up and leave her alone. But the human girl was proving to be difficult...

"Look," Belle began again, wanting to explain herself more so, "I know what you must be thinking… I'm an evil human who wants to pillage the castle's riches and eat your friends," she said with a hint of comedy, trying to lighten the mood, "but if you would just give me a chance, to explain, you'll discover I'm not like that at all…"

Ariel could no longer control her silence after this comment, shouting, "I don't _want_ to know you! I don't want to have anything to do with you!"

Belle stepped back from her side of the double bedroom doors, alarmed and upset. She stood there silently for a moment, not sure of what to do. _Should I attempt another course of conversation?_

By this time, Belle was somewhat disheartened. Deciding to say no more, she quietly and solemnly walked away, her intended destination now the boiler room. She never had the chance to hear Ariel break down into distressed sobs, her emotions becoming too much for her to handle.

Ariel had flopped onto her luxurious four-poster canopy bed, face down, and had begun to cry into one of her many frilly-edged pillows.

It wasn't long before Scuttle flew over, worried about his princess.

"What's a matter? Ariel…?"

He landed on the more than adequately-sized bed beside her, sinking into the plush mattress after doing so.

Turning her head sideways to answer him, Ariel said, "Oh, it's just… everything," before blinking her tear-filled eyes shut.

"I know," Scuttle soothed, pointing his beak downward. "It's all a bit much, huh?"

"I... shouldn't have yelled at her like that," Ariel confessed, her eyes still closed. "I know she's being intrusive, but she hasn't been mean to me… well, not yet. When did I get like this? When I was a merchild, adults would often remark how courteous and friendly I was. And now…" Her voice trailed off as she shifted her gaze away from Scuttle.

"Ariel, it's not your fault. Look at everything you've been through…" the seagull comforted, placing a wing affectionately on her arm.

"I don't know," Ariel began again, after a sniffle and a wipe of her eyes, "what if it's the spell? What if I'm becoming a human… on the inside? Cruel and heartless. I don't ever want to be like that…"

"Ha! That's crazy talk," Scuttle dismissed Ariel's idea with a wafture of his wing. "You could never be like that, sweetie. Never."

Ariel grew a smile at her seagull friend. Admittedly, he was beginning to mend her mood... a little.

"…And besides, Belle doesn't _seem_ cruel and heartless. Although, she does own a _cat_…" The bird scratched his feathery head upon completing the sentence.

Ariel's eyes grew wide. Had she heard Scuttle correctly? _Belle doesn't seem cruel and heartless… But you can't always judge on first impressions, can you?  
_

"You're right, I'm being silly. I'm just… tired. It's been a stressful day," she admitted, patting Scuttle upon his head.

"Well, I'll let you get some rest then, princess." With these words, Scuttle rose off the bed, winked at Ariel, then made his way toward the bedroom door.

* * *

The nightmares all began the same. Ariel sat awake, waiting, in the dingy, dank servants' quarters. She was too frightened to sleep. For she knew he was coming.

Almost every night, he came, drunk and agitated. Unhappy with his home. Unhappy with his wife. Unhappy with his work… and somehow, Ariel was made accountable for all of his misfortune. She bore the brunt of his unhappiness.

Before they had taken her in, did his wife suffer through this?

No, she fared no better. Her abuse was verbal… not as terrifying as physical abuse, but abuse nonetheless. Ariel tried to shut out any form of pity she might feel. Her only thoughts were of her home… her real home… Her father. Her sisters.

Waiting was almost as bad as the beatings themselves. At least once it was over, she could attempt to get _some_ sleep.

All too soon, the door would crash open, and he'd stumble in, muttering incoherently. Then his eyes would focus on the terrified servant girl, and he'd begin to loudly berate her. No matter how hard she tried, her efforts were never good enough. The windows were never clean enough. Neither was the floor. She always took too long when undertaking her chores…

Then, words were replaced by fists. Despite his drunkenness, he was strong. Sometimes, he even tried other things… to have his way with her. But she always screamed if he grabbed her like that. And he'd suddenly realise his wife and children could hear. So he'd hit her again. At least she didn't scream when he hit her.

_Please, just let me die…_

Ariel opened her eyes with a start. Her breathing was rapid. It took a moment for her to calm down, and once she did, she finally realised that it was already dark. Needless to say, her nap had been neither refreshing nor ample. She still felt very weary. But this was often the case; she was used to the dreams. _At least __now__, they're __only__ dreams._

Yawning, she slowly sat up. The sea-rose's purple shimmer lit up the room enough for her to see well, but not so brightly that it kept her awake.

She didn't know why, but as soon as Ariel had awoken fully, she glanced over toward her bedroom door.

The atmosphere was deadly silent; it became obvious that her sea friends, and thankfully the human girl, were not in proximity of the west wing, for she heard no voices nor indications of nearby movement.

In the dull purple hue of her room, Ariel could just define something lying on the ground very close to her door. Drowsily, she stood up and walked over to investigate.

On closer inspection, it appeared to be a note, carefully slid underneath the gap between the door's end and the floor. Intrigued, she picked it up to read its message.

Written in an attractive style of scripted handwriting, it said: "_I strongly urge you to have a look in the study that lies opposite your room, at the far end of the hall. Don't worry, I promise you I won't be in there_."

A small smiley-face was drawn on the bottom right hand corner of the note—it was quite obviously from Belle, who, Ariel thought, must have slipped it under the door sometime when she was asleep.

Despite her apprehension, Ariel was very curious by nature, and thus decided to investigate. Belle had promised to not be in there, after all—though Ariel doubted a human's promise meant much. If she saw, or heard, anything suspicious, she could race back to her room, seeing as it was so close.

Cautiously, Ariel opened her bedroom door a fraction, peering outside. The coast was clear—not a soul was in the vicinity.

Preparing to be greeted by complete darkness, Ariel was surprised to learn that the hallway was slightly aglow, with flickering orange and yellow hues dancing jerkily across the walls, creating shadows as they did so.

Ariel soon learned the reason as to why; in the study, the same one that Belle had directed her to in the note, a warming, welcoming fire roared.

There was a safety fence around the fireplace, so no burning embers could dare escape. Many pillows, obviously gathered from several other rooms within the castle, padded the floor just in front of the fireplace, creating an enticing place of rest.

Ariel could barely believe her eyes. _Why would a human go to this much trouble to aid the comfort of another? Were 'fires' really that important to survive the coldness of winter?_

In truth, Ariel became immediately drawn to the fire. It was so warm, so inviting. The current layout of the room was also very cosy, and as Ariel sat upon the cushions that lay only a foot or so away from the fireplace's edge, she felt herself relax considerably.

It was so wonderful, the instant calming effect that she felt as she gazed into the dancing flames. Ariel quickly became warm, warmer than she had ever felt, as the heat of the flames enveloped her entire body, not to mention all four corners of the study.

Feeling herself becoming drowsy once more, Ariel lied down on her side, using the scattered pillows as a makeshift bed. It wasn't long before she was sound asleep by the fire's amber glow.


	6. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**"New Friends, New Enemies"**

"Who the hell does that girl think she is?" Gaston boomed, his words slightly slurred.

Still seething from Belle's unceremonious rejection of him earlier that day, and from the humiliation that followed, Gaston sat, brooding, in his specially reserved king size chair at the local tavern.

"It's enough to drive a man to drink! Say… that's a good idea." With teeth gritted, he snatched another pot of ale impatiently as one of the barmaids walked by.

Lifting up his fresh glass, Gaston finished with a drunken salute. "Belle Cartier, you'll be the death of me!"

"C'mon Gaston," Ramon began an attempt to comfort his crestfallen friend, "It's not that bad. There are other girls…"

"Other girls?" Gaston interrupted, suddenly furious. "_Other girls_? Do you see any other girls? There are no other girls!"

Ramon, along with the other young lads that had accompanied Gaston to the tavern on this brisk evening, glanced around the room.

Christophe, among the posse, feebly commented: "Well, there are the barmaids." To his relieved surprise, Gaston burst into hearty laughter.

"Ha! The boy is funny! Let me buy you a beer."

Gaston was not the most emotionally stable man at the best of times. He was known to indulge his fearsome temper on occasions when situations didn't heed his way. There were only extremes within his feelings—no grey areas. Of course, being intoxicated only accentuated this fact.

Christophe grinned meekly at Gaston's compliment. He, and the other young men, were seated in a circular fashion extending from Gaston's alpha chair, all nursing beverages of their own.

The tavern was busy, but not overly so. When Gaston spoke, the entire room listened, his booming voice drowning out the other patrons' conversations. Not that they minded—tonight's topic was particularly entertaining. _The woman who dared turn Gaston down_.

Ramon sighed as he peered down into his mug. "Well, look at the bright side," he began, not lifting his eyes yet, "Maybe now you can actually focus on _other_ things. Like that hunting trip you promised to take us all on! I mean… when it's always 'Belle this' and 'Belle that' it's hard for us to…"

Gaston lunged forward, grasping Ramon's collar tightly, much like he had done earlier that day. Unfortunately for Ramon, the alcohol he had consumed has loosened his tongue and inhibitions also. The others all stared, although none felt pity. _Serves him right_.

"You think _you _are more important than Belle?" Gaston snapped. Ramon's eyes grew wide.

"Uhhh, erm… no."

"You think you're more beautiful? More desirable? More… uhhh, more… What's another word for really, really good-looking?" Gaston asked the cosy crowd, the hunter now considerably calmer, though he still manhandled Ramon.

"_Ravishing_," a deep voice suddenly offered from behind Gaston; from someone not within the circle.

Finally releasing his grip of Ramon's collar, Gaston spun around in his chair. Before his bleary eyes stood Monsieur D'Arque, the director of the town's insane asylum. He was considerably older than Gaston's group, with dark, beady eyes and a permanent snarl upon his lips. A tall beanpole of a man, his skin was almost off-yellow, as if he suffered jaundice.

Casually, he dragged a chair over to join the lads. Once he was seated, and a sinister smirk had slowly grown upon his leathery face, he spoke again.

"Tell me, dear boy, are not talking about Belle Cartier?"

Gaston gaped for a moment, before answering with enthusiasm: "Of course I am! Well, I'm certainly _not_ talking about _him_!" He pointed at Ramon, who could only sink sheepishly in his chair.

"Hmmm." D'Arque moved his gaze toward the crackling fireplace that was opposite Gaston, situated outside the perimeter of the men. His sleazy smile remained, still. "I heard she refused your hand in marriage today."

Gaston bared his sparkling teeth. "News travels fast around here, doesn't it?" He muttered, before directing a scowling gaze straight ahead, at nothing in particular.

"I do hope you don't intend to give up," D'Arque continued. "A man of your social standing should have little trouble persuading the woman that he wants."

Something about D'Arque's gaze unnerved Gaston a little, though he would never have admitted to it. "Uhhh… thanks," was all he managed in reply, his glare intense also.

"Hey, Gaston!" Christophe suddenly spoke up, with cheer in his voice. "Look who it is!"

Instantly, all heads turned toward the direction Christophe was facing, which, evidently, was that of the tavern's entrance.

Christophe had been referring to Maurice, who was now plodding, almost sadly, toward the bar.

Gaston's body jerked forward as he watched with sudden interest. After a moment he glanced back at D'Arque and the boys, flashing his pearly whites. D'Arque chuckled at Maurice's coincidental timing.

"I guess I'll say hello to Daddy Dearest," Gaston joked, full of liquid courage more so than natural courage. With that, he stood, pushing out his manly, muscular chest. His inebriation altered his cocky stride into a cocky stagger, but Gaston cared none.

"What a day," Gaston heard Maurice say to the bartender as he neared. "Give me a double."

"Why, hello Maurice," Gaston announced, attempting to sit awkwardly on an ordinary bar stool right beside the older man. He slipped, and his gang, all watching intently, laughed lightly. Straightening himself, Gaston laughed also. "How do you common folk sit on these things?" He directed at the misty-eyed Maurice.

"Huh?" The older man lifted his head up in surprise after taking a small sip of his beer, froth dripping from his white-grey moustache. "Oh, bonsoir Gaston."

"Can I get you another, old-timer?" Gaston asked, attempting to be friendly.

"But I just got this one," Maurice replied, peering into the amber fluid.

"Well, that's OK, the night is young yet! Heh heh. So… how is Belle? Did she mention anything… that happened today?"

Looking up at Gaston once more, Maurice sighed. He was unaware of the degree of Gaston's obsession with his daughter, and simply thought Gaston was being polite.

"Belle? She's… fine. As far as I know. She's gone to stay in this castle for a few days… It's not too far. About half a day's journey from here, maybe a little more." Maurice seemed sombre as he spoke. It hadn't even been a whole day yet, but he was missing Belle already—and Cheeky, too.

Gaston was dumbfounded. "A castle? What are you talking about?" He asked Maurice, almost in a condescending tone, as if Maurice had invented the story on a whim.

"Oh?" Maurice seemed surprised that Gaston had questioned him. "There's this castle, on the other side of the woods. A mermaid lives in there, along with her talking sea-friends."

D'Arque and the others were still listening from nearby. As soon as Maurice had finished his explanation, they all chuckled heartily. Gaston had to hold his mouth to prevent himself from also bursting into laughter.

"Is that so?" Gaston finally asked, in control of himself once more. "A mermaid and… what talking sea-friends were there, exactly?"

Gaston was cruelly humouring the old man. Without much subtlety, he glanced over at his friends, winking at them.

"First, the seagull came to greet me. Then the crab came out, but he wasn't as friendly as the seagull…"

Gaston couldn't help it this time—with boisterous guffaws, he cracked up laughing, as did the others once more.

"You don't believe me?" Maurice seemed surprised. "But I'm certain that it happened."

"Oh, of course it did, Maurice! Of course it did." Gaston snickered in sarcasm, patting the old man on his shoulder.

"Well, why don't you just wait until Belle comes home? She'll tell you…"

Gaston's eyes lit up upon mention of Belle's name. "I'll make sure she does. As long as she tells me in _private_." He laughed again, shaking his head.

Disappointed, Maurice slowly rose off his chair, deciding to venture home. As the town laughing-stock exited the warmth of the tavern into the brisk night air, Gaston failed to notice a tall, slim figure approach him from behind.

Gaston flinched slightly when he felt bony fingers clasp onto his chiselled shoulder. He spun around to find himself staring into D'Arque's seemingly soulless eyes.

"Geez!" Gaston yelled. "If you're going for creepy, congratulations, you've mastered it!"

D'Arque's thin lips formed a wry smile. "Oh dear," he began with false concern in his voice, "It would seem that old Maurice has finally lost his marbles."

"Yeah… and?" An annoyed Gaston asked impatiently.

"Well, my dear boy…" D'Arque drew the sentence out for dramatic effect, "perhaps… I can help you… with your problem." He paused. Fully aware that, although Gaston was not rich, he was certainly nowhere near the poverty line, either, D'Arque finally added: "_For a price_."

Gaston's pale blue eyes grew wide. Suddenly, he was stone cold sober.

* * *

Ariel was hesitant to wake the next morning. She hadn't experienced quite a satisfying sleep for many nights. She suffered no nightmares. She had not struggled against the shudders of inadequate warmth.

Now lying upon her back, still upon the makeshift scattered cushion bed, she stretched herself wearily, yawning as she did so. Blinking her eyes drowsily, once they had regained focus, they were first greeted by the study's ceiling.

Then, Ariel noticed something—not only with her eyes, but with the sensation of something quite heavy resting upon her chest.

Glancing downward, Ariel screamed. Scrambling frantically to escape this unknown creature, she was soon backed up against the nearest wall.

Dazed for a moment from his fall, a refreshed Cheeky soon sprang back to his feet. He then looked at Ariel inquisitively with his large golden eyes. _What did I do?_

He had been cosily curled up, happily asleep. In her surprised and awed state of discovering the welcoming fire the previous evening, Ariel had not properly closed the door of the study, allowing the curious and friendly cat to wander in at some point during the night. And although the fire had now been long burned out, Ariel's body temperature had been warm enough to sustain his comfort.

Almost as if to say "Good morning", Cheeky soon began to purr. Ariel knew nothing about the bizarre, furry creature or the strange noise it was now making, but she knew one thing: Scuttle was terrified of it.

"Don't come any closer!" She warned Cheeky, who didn't seem to take her seriously. He just sat there, his gaze fixed on the frightened girl, his purr growing louder. "What do you want? Please go away!"

"Mieh?" Cheeky meowed half-heartedly—the end result was somewhat silent, the cat opening his mouth only a little.

"Cheeky? Where are you, boy?"

Ariel was both alarmed and relieved to hear Belle's voice call out from near proximity to the study. Relieved because, as soon as this fluffy intruder heard his master's voice, he raced out of the study and toward it.

Cautious, and still frightened, Ariel quickly closed the door after him. Half expecting Belle to knock on the study's door and harass her once more, as the invasive human had done the previous afternoon, Ariel remained pressed up against the door, listening intently.

"Is this where you've been? You shouldn't wander off to these parts, " Ariel heard the human say to her pet. She then heard Belle continue to him excitedly, "You'll never believe it Cheeky! We've had the first snowfall of the season. Didn't I say to you that I thought it was cold enough to snow last night? Ha, I was right. Let's go outside!"

Ariel frowned to herself. She didn't know what 'snow' was, but Belle sure seemed thrilled by it. Pressing her ear up to the thick wooden door, she heard Belle's voice grow softer, obviously as she was moving farther away. "Once we've finished playing in the snow, it'll just about be time for breakfast. I know you're sure to be happy about that!"

Then, there was silence. Ariel knew she was safe again. Carefully, she opened the study's door a fraction and peered outside, just in case. When she saw no one, as she expected she would, Ariel hastily made her way down the hall and into the safe confines of her bedroom.

As she walked over to the large windows the were directly opposite the emerald-coloured wooden doors that were the entrance to her room, Ariel felt a shiver race up her spine when she noticed that another petal had fallen from her shimmering sea-rose.

This melancholy thought was soon overtaken however, by sheer awe, once Ariel looked outside the fogged-up windows.

Just about every inch of the castle grounds was covered by a glittering, white powder-like substance. It made the grounds seem almost cheerful in the early morning sunlight.

_Is that 'snow'?_ She wondered to herself, staring out in amazement for quite some time. She was suddenly startled however, by joyful, familiar voices shouting out far below her.

"Snow! SNOW!" Dash yelled out merrily, lumbering along the newly-frozen earth with unbridled enthusiasm. "Now all we need is…"

"Ice! ICE!" Tip shouted happily, pointing a fin toward a nearby thinly-frozen pond.

"This is so great!" Dash said as he raced his friend toward the ice—though the walrus had little chance of beating Tip there. "It's so much like home!"

"Yes, my big blubber boy," Tip agreed, sliding onto the icy pond with fond ease, "those were the days."

As Ariel watched her arctic friends skate upon the ice and frolic about in the powdery snow joyously, she grew pensive. They longed to return to their home as much as she did. At this moment, they seemed so happy…

Abruptly stepping back from the window, Ariel forcefully snapped herself out of these thoughts, shaking her head a little. It was pointless to long for home. Though Tip and Dash were likely to return to their original arctic abode someday, she knew there was no sense in her hoping for the day when she was to be reunited with her father, and their underwater palace, once more.

Realising that she had not seen nor heard Belle anywhere in the outdoor vicinity of Tip and Dash, Ariel stepped toward the plain wooden table that both the enchanted sea-rose and the magical seashell-decorated hand mirror rested upon, eager for a distraction from her forlorn thoughts. Trying her best to ignore the sea-rose's wilted state, Ariel picked up the mirror, staring into it almost vacantly, as she looked not at her own reflection, but through it.

"Show me where the human girl is, please," She asked of the mirror, gently.

The polished, reflective glass of the mirror glowed with a mystical green light, and soon an image appeared. Blurry at first, the image soon became sharp and clear, and Ariel noticed that Belle was not outside at all, but foraging in the castle's kitchen.

Opening up yet another cupboard, Belle looked down at her hungry feline companion. "So far, not much," she sighed to Cheeky. "No wonder Ariel is so thin…"

Growing annoyed, Ariel placed the mirror back upon the wooden table, face down and with relative force. Her dietary habits were of no concern to Belle!

Crossing her arms in a huff, Ariel plonked down on her chaise by the foggy windows.

* * *

That particular day passed slowly for Ariel. She was too apprehensive to leave her room, in case she encountered Belle, and she wished not even to look out of the window for the remainder of the day, for every time she saw the cheerful blanket of white covering the earth, she was reminded of Tip and Dash's delight earlier that morning at the similarity it resembled to their frigid home.

Adding the finishing touches to a lovingly crafted painting of her father was the only activity that had occupied Ariel all day. Not even one her loyal sea friends had visited her either, perhaps too enamoured by the recent snowfall.

Flopping onto her lush bed, Ariel gazed at the ceiling. It was now dark, and once again the dull purple glow of her enchanted sea-rose had lightened the room. _Although_, Ariel thought miserably, _it won't do so for too much longer_...

Downstairs, in a medium sized living area, the quartet of sea creatures were sitting in a circle by a lit fireplace, playing yet another round of cards. They had figured that the welcoming warmth of the fire had been made possible by Belle, and although they were sceptical at first, it wasn't long before they had soon settled comfortably in front of it.

"Is that human girl still here?" Sebastian asked, almost grumpily, as he clasped half a dozen or so cards in one pincer.

"Dunno," Scuttle replied, only pretending to know how to play this particular game. "But the good thing is, no girl, no cat."

"Well, I think she's nice," Dash said, smiling. Tip and Sebastian glared at him, while Scuttle frowned at his playable card hand, making it obvious that he hadn't the slightest idea what he was doing.

At that very moment, her timing impeccable, Belle strode past the open doorway. Noticing the four sea-dwelling friends inside the room, she backtracked and entered, giving a little wave. "Hey, bonsoir," Belle greeted them cheerfully.

"Huh?" Tip looked up, dumbfounded. "Bon-_what_?"

"Ummm, good evening." Belle then altered her greeting for the linguistically challenged penguin.

"Guess she's still here," Sebastian groaned, not caring to look at Belle, rather impolitely. Dash grinned and waved with his free flipper and once Scuttle realised that Belle was alone, sans Cheeky, he also smiled warmly.

"What'cha doing?" Belle asked, slightly astonished by the sight of them playing cards—though she couldn't help but smile.

"Playing cards, what's it look like?" Tip replied, rather brusquely.

"Well, I know that," Belle said, rolling her eyes but continuing to smile. "_What__ are _you playing?"

"Go Fish!" Scuttle replied enthusiastically, despite his hopelessness at the game.

"And yes," Sebastian pointed out to Belle, "we are aware of the irony that we, being sea creatures, are playing 'Go Fish'."

"That's OK, I wasn't going to comment about the irony," Belle smirked, walking over to them. She then sat cross-legged between the two that had the largest gap between them, thus wriggling her way into the circle. "Nice fire, huh?" She commented, quite proud of herself. "So… who's winning?"

Sebastian sighed. It seemed apparent that Belle was not going to leave them in a hurry.

"Hey, did you ever hear of a game called 'Fifty-Two Pick Up'?" She began again, attempting to be funny, hopeful to thaw out the frosty reception she was receiving. Stunned silence was the only response, however, the four sea creatures obviously not aware of the joke.

Belle scratched the chocolate brown hair upon her head rather sheepishly. "Hmmm. Guess not," she muttered as she glanced sideways, looking at nothing in particular.

Suddenly, her eyes brightened and her endearing dimpled smile returned. "You know, I just realised that we haven't been properly introduced."

"What a shame," Tip mumbled sarcastically, a disapproving Dash nudging him upon hearing the words.

"Well, _anyway_, my name is Belle. I know you think I'm an evil human who's secretly planning to cook and eat you all, but I hope you'll take the time to get to know me, so you'll realise I'm not like that at all. I do hope we can be friends."

Dash was almost delighted by this prospect. "My name's Dash," he gushed immediately before pointing at his penguin friend sitting beside him, "and this here is Tip."

Tip frowned at his blubbery companion. "Gee, thanks buddy."

"I'm Scuttle!" The seagull stated with a friendly grin on his beak.

Finally, the dignified crab placed his cards face down upon the floor, stood up, puffed out his chest and said, "And I am Horatio Felonious Ignacious Crustaceous Sebastian. But, everyone just calls me 'Sebastian'."

"Whew! All name, no crab," Belle smirked once more, attempting another joke. Again, she was greeted by an awkward silence. "Heh. Well," Belle then cleared her throat and straightened her cobalt blue peasant dress over her knees. "Anyway, I'm pleased to meet you all."

"Say, Belle?" Scuttle began, eyeing her with worry, "Where's your c… your c-c-c-c…"

"My cat?" Belle assisted the stammering seagull, who she now realised was scared, hence the stuttering. "Cheeky? You're scared of _Cheeky_?" She laughed, unable to imagine why anyone would be frightened of her beloved pet. "Ha, that's the funniest thing I've ever heard."

Scuttle stared at her, confused, and still worried. Belle noticed this, and smiled kindly at the seagull.

"Really, Scuttle," She began, her voice now soft, "Cheeky's nothing to be afraid of. I realise that he is a cat and you're a bird, but he's very placid, not to mention incredibly lazy. Seriously, he's ten years old and has never hunted a single living thing in his life!" She laughed gently, and oddly, Scuttle found himself reassured.

"Oh. OK," Was all he said, his eyes fixing upon his hand of cards once more.

"Well, he may not be frightening," Sebastian began as he pointed a pincer at Belle, "but you certainly are."

Belle was shocked. "Me?" Her voice was almost a whisper as she pointed at herself. "Why would anyone be afraid of me? I thought I already cleared up the fact that I was a vegetarian…"

"Ariel is afraid of you," Dash told Belle, almost sadly. Tip whacked the walrus with his free fin.

"_Don't _talk about Ariel!" The penguin scolded under his breath.

Dejected, Belle sighed heavily. She wanted to know just why Ariel was so scared, what had happened to her. But she knew she would never receive the answers from the four overprotective creatures that sat around her. Dash or Scuttle maybe, but they would have to be alone, not anywhere near the mistrusting Tip or Sebastian.

Standing up again, Belle suddenly thought of a plan. She decided that she was going to explore the castle thoroughly—perhaps then she would discover some answers.

"So…" Belle began, her voice trailing off, "could you guys tell me a bit about this place? I'd like to have a decent look around, if that's alright with all of you."

Sebastian eyed her suspiciously. "Why?"

Belle shrugged, purposefully non-chalant. "I'm just… curious."

"What's to see?" Tip grumbled. "It's a big old castle, full of weird, and most likely dangerous, human stuff. Though I'm sure _you _would like it."

Ignoring Tip's bitter words, as Belle also tried to, the keen-to-please Dash began to list the places he thought would be of most interest. "Well… the dining hall is really big. And there's a statue garden outside, but… most of the statues are broken. There are lots of rooms with dusty human stuff upstairs, and… oh, here on the first floor is an enormous library…"

"You forgot to mention the dungeons," Tip added in a smarmy tone. "Go and visit the dungeons. And hey, stay there as long as you want!"

Belle hadn't heard Tips words. Her eyes had grown wide at something Dash had mentioned, and she momentarily became distracted from her initial plan. "Wait… did you say a library?" She asked excitedly.

"Uh, yeah," Dash reaffirmed, unsure as to why Belle was so delighted. "With… books. Lots of dusty human books."

"Geez, what else would you find in a library?" Tip rolled his eyes at the walrus.

Remembering why she had asked in the first place, Belle shook her head, trying to forget, at least for now, about the alluring library.

"Never mind. I'll see you guys later. Have fun but remember," she gestured towards their playing cards, "gambling is addictive!" She then smiled, giving another little wave as she headed out the door.

"Gambling?" Tip frowned, placing his free fin on his hip. "What the heck is that?" His question would remain unanswered, however.

Sebastian's eyes were fixed sternly on the departing human. "Hey!" The crab called out after her. "Don't you forget…"

"I know, I know," Belle sighed, her voice dismissive. "Stay away from the west wing."


	7. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**"A Reckless Act"**

As the bitter night air settled around her, Belle continued her search for answers within the castle's ageing stone walls. Aided by the light of a flickering candle, Belle quietly moved from room to room. Cheeky, of course, remained by her side, occasionally rushing ahead to explore independently, but always quickly returning to his master's side once he grew frightened of the eerie darkness of this mysterious castle.

Trailing her hand along yet another cold, hard wall, Belle roused a slight amount of dust. _I wonder what has happened here… Who used to live here? Why did it become abandoned? Perhaps the rich family that once lived here were assassinated, or had to relocate for reasons surrounded by controversy, or…_

Belle was suddenly startled by an adorable Cheeky sneeze. The dust she had roused had floated toward him and been inhaled. Belle bent down, stroking the moggy's head. Cheeky sneezed again, before beginning to purr at Belle's display of affection.

_Most of all, I'd like to know what has happened to Ariel_, Belle began to ponder again, as she became upright once more. _She's just so… scared. Something terrible must have happened to her… Well, I do agree with Sebastian to some extent. Some people are cruel, selfish, manipulative, judgmental… erm…_

All of a sudden, she stopped. Lost in her own thoughts, her countless questions that she hoped this expedition would provide answers for, Belle had unwittingly stepped from the castle's main dining hall into the grand ballroom. Although the darkness of the early hours of the evening made it difficult to see clearly, Belle was certain she could glimpse the distinct shape of a grand piano on the outskirts of the ballroom's dance floor. Without hesitation, she rushed over to it.

Feeling the musician come alive within her, Belle became very excited. Although she was a violinist primarily, she certainly knew how to play the piano, and very well at that. But she had never experienced the opportunity to play such a magnificent piano as this one.

Inspecting it closely, Belle was in awe of the shining black mahogany and the many scales of ebony and ivory keys that beckoned her. Placing her candlestick upon the piano, Belle sat down on the player's stool, a rush of euphoria overcoming her as she shook her hands, wishing to loosen her fingers.

Within moments, Cheeky had leapt up onto the keyboard and begun pawing at some random keys. Stifling a giggle, Belle lifted her hefty cat from the keyboard and placed him upon the stool beside her.

"Cheeky, if I wanted help, I would have asked for it!" Belle patted him as she spoke, Cheeky beginning to purr once more, content to stay seated where he was for the time being.

Then, without any further delay, Belle began to play—an original composition, a poignant ballad in fact—the notes from her melodious tune carrying far in the still silence of the night.

* * *

Every so often, as she fitfully tossed and turned upon her expansive, silk sheet covered bed, Ariel felt a shiver run up her spine, a chattering of her teeth. Although it could have been argued that it was perhaps a little too early to attempt sleep, Ariel felt that she had nothing better to do.

It wasn't long before she realised that she was having trouble dozing off not because it was too early, but because she was cold.

There had been no note slid under her door this evening. In fact, Belle had not made her presence known all day.

Still, Ariel thought, at the back of her troubled mind, that it would be nice to have a fire to cosy up to.

Carefully, she inspected the hall, once she had risen off her bed and opened her door a fraction. Silence and darkness greeted her, and Ariel knew without question that there was no one around. Disappointed, she also assumed there was no fire alight in the study at the far end of the hall.

Cautiously making her way there in the blackness, Ariel soon discovered that her assumption was correct. She placed a hand against the door frame and sighed, closing her eyes. This night was cold, the coldest she was yet to experience. Perhaps Belle had finally returned home…

Ariel's eyes sprang open when she realised she could hear a distant sound. Turning around to face the direction from which she guessed the sound was emanating, she listened carefully.

"What is that?" She whispered to herself in the darkness. "It's… beautiful."

Enchanted by the faint music that wafted from afar within the castle, Ariel's curiosity overpowered her anxiety, and she decided to investigate, the lure of the melodic notes too strong to resist.

Incidentally, she soon found herself at the entrance of the grand ballroom, managing to navigate the night's pitch whilst following the alluring music.

Unsure, she backed up against the great double doors of the ballroom, lingering around the corner from where she was certain the mysterious, talented musician was playing.

Listening intently, Ariel shut her eyes in appreciation of the fine music. She could hear only the full, sustained notes of the piano and her own breathing for some time. Until a voice roused her out of her entranced state, the music abruptly stopping.

"What are you doing, Cheeky?"

Ariel panicked as she felt golden eyes staring at her. The same luminous feline eyes that had asked for a cuddle that morning. Anxious, her breathing became heavier as she clutched onto the wood grain of the doors behind her.

Cheeky's purr soon led Belle to where Ariel was attempting to hide, and all at once, Ariel realised the confronting situation in which she had regrettably placed herself.

"Oh…" Intending to pick up Cheeky and determine what the fuss was indeed about, Belle froze in her tracks when she discovered she was face to face with Ariel. "Uh… hi."

Ariel only stared in response, her eyes wide. If it wasn't for Cheeky's unbridled purring, an awkward silence would have remained uncomfortably for some time.

In the soft candlelight, Ariel had to reluctantly admit to herself that Belle didn't appear intimidating. Although she was tall, her features were lovely, almost inviting.

_But appearances c__an be deceiving_, Ariel thought. Still, she remained there, tightly pressed against the ballroom doors, her mind reaching for a thousand thoughts at once but failing to grasp any. Unwittingly, she found herself staring at Belle for some time, this being their first encounter in close quarters.

"Ummm…" Belle finally began, looking carefully into Ariel's large, sapphire eyes with her bronze-coloured own in an attempt to read her emotions, "Cheeky's just being friendly. You don't need to be scared…"

At last, Ariel managed to break her gaze away from Belle's, glancing down at the strange, furry creature. Without hesitation, or thought of stopping herself, Ariel suddenly asked: "What is it?"

"_What is it_?" Belle repeated, somewhat stunned. Then, she realised, of course a mermaid isn't going to know about felines. "Oh, he's a cat. His name is Cheeky, and I think he likes you."

"A… _cat_?" Ariel repeated as she looked up at Belle briefly, then down toward Cheeky again.

"Yeah," Belle said softly. "He's my pet, my best friend. I've had him for ten years."

"What's he doing?" Ariel asked another question, referring to the strange noise that Cheeky was loudly creating.

"He's just purring," Belle explained, smiling fondly at her contented cat. "He does that pretty much all the time. It means he's happy."

Belle was interested to note, once she glanced at Ariel again, that Ariel's stance had relaxed a little. Her muscles were not quite so tensed, and she no longer appeared to be an extension of the grand ballroom's doors.

"Mieh?" Cheeky suddenly squeaked at Ariel, asking for a pat.

"Geez, Cheeky!" Belle gently laughed, shaking her head at him. "You're so lazy you won't even miaow properly."

Slowly, cautiously, Belle moved closer to Ariel, bending over to pluck Cheeky up off the floor. Not wanting to frighten Ariel, she then took a thoughtful step backwards, cradling the heavy fluff ball in her arms.

"See? He's nothing to be afraid of."

"He is… pretty cute," Ariel confessed, a tiny smile flickering upon her pretty face.

Belle smiled back. This was the progress she'd been hoping for. "Say… why don't you give him a pat?"

Ariel's smile quickly disappeared. "Oh, no… I don't think so."

"Come on," Belle insisted quietly. "He loves it, don't you Cheeky boy? Really, he can't hurt you."

Ariel studied Belle's face carefully. Her gentle eyes, her sincere smile. Without realising, Ariel had gradually lowered her guard since she was first cornered by the curious Cheeky.

Ariel swallowed hard. Carefully, she outstretched a trembling hand. The still purring Cheeky greeted the hand with an affectionate nuzzle. Flinching a little, Ariel also laughed very gently. "It kinda… tickles."

"Told you he liked you! And he's a good judge of character, aren't you sweetie?" Belle snuggled her face into the ample fur around Cheeky's neck.

Retracting her hand, Ariel gazed at Belle without saying another word. Nervously, she soon brought her hands together and proceeded to twiddle her fingers.

Not wanting another long, awkward silence, Belle then asked very quietly: "So… what brings you to the ballroom?"

"What?" Ariel seemed surprised by the question, as if she hadn't even heard Belle's words. "Oh… I, uh… heard something. Music. It was wonderful… It was… you?"

Belle blushed a little and averted her gaze. "Well, yeah."

Ariel glanced at the floor and politely complimented: "You're… very talented."

"Uh, thanks." Belle placed her free hand behind her head shyly. Modestly, she began to ramble: "But there are still plenty of kinks to work out. There's a place where I've written a plain minor chord, but I'm really starting to think that it should be a minor seventh. And I can't decide whether I prefer it in C Major or E Flat Major, perhaps even F major, but that might be a little too high for the mood of the piece…"

Ariel stared blankly at her, obviously not understanding much of what Belle had said. She knew about art, and she could sing beautifully, but much of her singing was by ear; she knew little about the technical side of music.

Realising that she was nervously blathering, Belle stopped short. _Shut up Belle, she doesn't want to hear about the intricacies of musical scores_. She cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed.

Another long silence hovered in the air.

Finally, remembering that she had in fact been exploring the castle for clues that could help dissolve the mystique of Ariel and the castle in general, before she had been distracted by the grand piano, Belle decided to ask a more serious question.

"Ariel," she began, almost inaudibly, "why are you so frightened of me?"

Ariel was stunned. She certainly hadn't expected Belle to ask her that, especially considering that Belle seemed almost sad as she did so.

After a considerable pause, Ariel thought she at least owed Belle an attempted explanation. "It's not _you_… I mean, it's not personal. It's just…"

"Humans in general?" Belle completed the sentence for her. Ariel's silence and downward glance only confirmed the truth in Belle's words. Belle nodded knowingly. "I know what you mean… I don't blame you, really," she then continued, gently. "Why do you think I like to spend most of my time with Cheeky?" She gave a little smile, and roughed up some thick Cheeky neck fur.

After a brief pause, Belle then sighed heavily, her eyes now cast downward. "Ariel… but, you must have been through something terrible." She glanced back up, concern now filling her eyes. "What… happened?"

The instant Belle asked that question, Ariel wished she hadn't. It all came rushing back with intense clarity. The beatings from her drunken, lecherous master. His apathetic wife. The local louts terrorising her. The town gossips labelling her as 'dumb'. Feeling so lost… so alone. So… empty.

Ariel felt her anger, her disgust, her hatred rise. Her skin began to crawl, and a cold shiver raced up her back, one that had nothing to do with the frosty evening temperature. She did _not_ want to be having this conversation. _Least of all with a human_!

"It's none of your business!" She suddenly erupted, startling Belle. "And it doesn't matter now, anyway!"

"I'm sorry," Belle tried to apologise, not knowing what else to say. But it was too late; Ariel's mindset had already reverted.

"No one asked you to come here! To invade my home!" She pointed an accusing finger in Belle's face.

In shock, Belle took a step backward, her mouth slightly agape.

"I don't need your help! I can look after myself!"

With these words, Ariel raced off. She was going to prove to the intrusive human that the words that she had just spoken were indeed true.

Determined, enraged, Ariel's mission now was to fetch her own firewood and light her own fires, thoughtlessly deciding to venture into the woods on this very night.

Completely unaware of what Ariel was intending to do, Belle sat forlornly at the piano for a long time, staring vacantly at the keys, deep in thought. "Just when I thought I was getting through to her," Belle finally said to herself, exasperated. _And then I pushed too far_.

"Oh Cheeky," Belle sighed to her cat, who was sitting at her feet upon the polished tiles of the floor, "this is hopeless."

With that, Belle sighed deeply, placing her face in her hands as she slumped morosely over the piano, defeated.

* * *

Only just the lesser side of an hour later, Belle had reached a sombre decision. She was going to leave the castle, at the first sign of daylight the following morning.

Her arms crossed—though she still managed to grip her candlestick—her shoulders slumped, Belle slowly, almost reluctantly, ventured toward the west wing to inform Ariel of her decision.

Sitting at the base of the west wing's stairs, doing nothing in particular, a relaxed Tip and Dash watched a downtrodden Belle approach.

"Hi Belle," Dash grinned a friendly, welcoming smile as he spoke. "What'cha doin'?"

Tip immediately noticed Belle's saddened mood. "Why so glum?" He asked, though his voice lacked the warmth of true concern.

"If it's perfectly alright with you," Belle sighed, "I need to speak to Ariel. I wish to go up into the west wing."

"No way!"

"Of course!"

Tip and Dash answered differently at the same time, both voices equal in volume. Then, they turned to each other and frowned.

"It won't take long," Belle insisted, barely managing to look up from the floor as she spoke.

"C'mon Tip," Dash whispered, nudging the penguin. "She looks so sad."

Tip rolled his eyes and groaned. "Alright! Whatever. You have five minutes, missy. And don't think I'm not countin'!" He then conceded, placing his fins on his hips.

Without another word, Belle strode past them and began to ascend the stairs.

"I think the Sea King was wrong," Dash began to Tip once Belle was out of earshot, the walrus in fact referring to Ariel's father. "I think humans do have feelings, too."

"Humans have feelings?" Tip threw up his fins, raising his voice. "What a crazy concept! You've been holed up in this castle for too long, blubber boy."

Lost in her thoughts, Belle took no notice of the magnificent marble statues that lined the hallway leading to Ariel's bedroom. Not lifting her gaze until she reached the double doors painted a glorious emerald green, Belle then inhaled a deep breath. After pausing for only a brief moment, she knocked forcefully, stood back, and waited.

No answer.

With a sigh, she knocked again, louder than before. Still she waited, receiving no reply.

"Ariel?" Belle called out, with a hint of concern tingeing her voice. "I'm sorry about before. I'm sorry if I went too far." After another brief pause, she then began to explain herself. She had to force the sentences out, her tone melancholy. "I've been thinking a lot about this, and I've decided to leave first thing in the morning. I'm sorry I upset you by imposing, but I really thought I could help you… I really did… but it's obvious that I'm not welcome here, and I never should have expected to be. So tomorrow, I'll go home…"

Belle stopped, expecting an answer of some kind. She thought Ariel might shout 'good riddance' or some similar sentiment, but there was only silence.

Belle thought for a moment. Perhaps Ariel was ignoring her completely… or maybe, she wasn't in her bedroom at all.

Overtaken by curiosity, Belle suddenly felt compelled to open one of the doors and investigate.

"Ariel…?" Belle called out again, as the grand door creaked open. No answer. Within seconds, Belle realised that Ariel must indeed be elsewhere. However, intrigued by the dull purple glow that lit the room, and curious in general, Belle continued inside.

The room was impeccably clean; even if it were broad daylight, Belle doubted that she would have ease in locating a single speck of dust. A large lush four-poster canopy bed was the main focal point of the room; the sheets were surely silk, shimmering with a deep mineral green hue. Pure white veils draped luxuriously down from the four posts, enclosing the bed almost as to make it a separate room. Belle took some comfort from this, the fact that at least she knew that Ariel slept cosily.

Then, Belle noticed the paintings.

Dozens of paintings lined the walls of the large room, some still on easels, others resting upright from the floor—each one pertaining to an oceanic theme. Some captured life under the waves, such as schools of fish swimming, or dolphins playing. Others had been envisioned from above sea level, including many luminous sunsets reflecting upon the ocean's surface, and several human ships sailing the temperamental seas.

"These are amazing," Belle whispered to herself, studying each painting with the aid of her candle as she strode by.

Soon, Belle stopped in front of a particular painting, staring at it with a mixture of awe and confusion. This painting was different to all the others; it was the only portrait piece.

It depicted a powerful looking middle-aged merman, clasping a golden trident in one hand, his dignified white beard floating in front of his expansive chest. He had arms like tree trunks, a glittering aqua coloured tail and a simple but elegant crown resting upon his head. There was no way for Belle to realise, but she was actually staring at a lovingly crafted portrait of Ariel's father.

The only worthy distraction from this masterpiece soon caught Belle's attention; at the far end of the room, on a simple wooden table placed by an open window, stood the enchanted sea-rose.

Transfixed, Belle walked over to it. It was so delicate, so beautiful—even though it was missing quite a few petals, and seemingly, dying.

Absent-mindedly placing her candleholder upon the table, Belle was so enchanted by the shimmering purple flower that she failed to notice the polished, seashell encrusted hand mirror that rested right beside the bell jar that housed the sea rose—or, in fact, that she was being watched.

Carefully placing her hand on the glass bell jar, Belle smiled in astonished appreciation of the sheer beauty of this magical, exotic flower.

"What're 'ya doin' in here, kid?"

Scuttle's sudden squawk startled Belle. Her heart leapt as she backed away from the sea-rose quickly, letting out a small gasp as she did so.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare 'ya," Scuttle apologised, swooping down from his perch atop a curtain rod and landing on the small wooden table in front of Belle, contracting his feathered body as much as possible, as he had very little room.

"Oh, Scuttle," Belle breathed a sigh of relief. "You frightened me!"

"Are you looking for Ariel?" Scuttle asked politely, glancing around the room as he did so, most likely checking for Cheeky's presence.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am." Belle replied courteously. "Do you know where she is?"

"Hmmm…" Scuttle placed a wing upon his head, thinking. "She was sayin' somethin' about proving that she didn't need any human's help, that she could get her own firewood…"

"_What_?" Belle's eyes grew wide in alarm.

"I think she's gone into the forest just near the castle… Hey, she actually went outside for a change! How'd you get her to do that?" Scuttle seemed impressed. But Belle's quick mind had already realised the severity of the situation.

Without another word, she dashed off, leaving Scuttle to scratch his feathered head. "Was it somethin' I said? What did I say?" The confused seagull pondered aloud, now alone. "Maybe it was the 'firewood' comment…"

Loping down the stairs of the west wing two or three at a time, Belle rushed past a shocked Tip and Dash.

"Hey there, what's the hurry?" Tip asked the frenzied human.

Without stopping, Belle yelled out behind her, over a shoulder: "I have to find Ariel… before it's too late!"

Instantly, Tip and Dash became worried for their princess. "Too… late?" Dash repeated with fear in his voice, as his eyes darted between Tip and the hastily departing Belle.

Quite athletic, Belle reached the castle's entrance in little time. Flinging her hooded cloak over her shoulders in preparation for the cold, Belle bravely left the safety and warmth of the castle and sprinted into the frost bitten night.

At that very same moment, Ariel was attempting to remove her axe yet again from the trunk of a fallen tree. The axe was lodged firmly, and Ariel was weak. With a groan, Ariel sighed to herself: "How in the world does she do this?"

The air was freezing, snow whirled around in a wintry bluster, and gathered clouds blocked the moon and stars from casting much light into the mist shrouded woods.

Shivering, Ariel grasped the axe handle tightly. She didn't realise just how cold the winter night could be outside, amongst the snow, so she hadn't worn a coat. She was dressed only in her favourite two-toned green ensemble, consisting of a blouse and a peasant dress.

Giving the axe a fierce yank, Ariel harangued herself for how her headstrong nature often landed her in undesirable situations such as this one. _I've done it again. Act first, think later_.

With all her strength, Ariel at last pulled the axe free, tumbling backwards onto the frozen earth. Groaning, she stood up again, intending to abort her attempt at gathering firewood and return to the castle.

However, when she turned around to begin her trek home, Ariel suddenly froze with fear. _Oh my gosh_…

A pack of wolves had silently appeared as if from nowhere, stealthily skulking toward their prey in the frigid night. Their hungry eyes glowed menacingly; their fangs dripped with saliva.

Although she knew not what these creatures were, Ariel was no fool. She knew she was being confronted by predatory animals; she had, in fact, encountered many sharks in her time as a mermaid, thankfully escaping their clutches by eluding them cleverly. Ariel had knowledge of sharks—how they think, what they're capable of—but she knew nothing of the snarling beasts that had stalked her on this night.

Darting her eyes sideways for a split second, Ariel noticed a relatively clear path to her right. She knew her only option was to run.

As the closest wolf took a single step forward, Ariel hurled the axe at it, attempting to startle it. The axe handle managed to clip the bridge of the wolf's nose, but not enough to deter it from the hunt.

Now defenseless, Ariel spun around and sprinted for her life.

Instantly, the wolves gave chase. Ariel could hear the echo of growling and barking close behind her as she pushed on, dodging sharp tree branches and fallen tree logs as best she could.

Hurdling over one dead tree, Ariel plunged through some thin ice the force of her light frame had cracked, sinking into a shallow, icy pond. Momentarily shocked by the sheer cold of the water, she soon regained her determination. Surfacing with a desperate gasp, Ariel frantically scrambled out of the sub-zero water and up onto solid, snow-covered ground.

Noticing the fierce growls of the wolf pack had been replaced by whimpering and frenzied splashing, Ariel looked around. She was relieved to discover the wolves experiencing great difficulty in navigating the icy pond.

Jogging on ahead, Ariel soon stopped to rest up against a great, solid tree once the wolves could no longer be heard. Exhausted, she panted for oxygen, the freezing air being inhaled causing her lungs to ache. Her pulse was rapid, and her lips had begun to turn blue. If she stayed stationary, it would not be long at all before hypothermia consumed her.

It wouldn't have the chance to, however; Ariel was so weak and in need of reprieve that she had failed to notice the wolves escape the water also, and in an instant they had surrounded her.

Ariel's heart raced with fear. _I… I had only closed my eyes for a second…_

The growling, barking, snarling pack danced around their intended dinner, their teeth glistening with drool in anticipation of their meal.

There was no escape for Ariel this time—and she had no hope whatsoever of overpowering the hungry pack of wolves. She simply stared, in terror and in shock, as the wolves pranced and panted, sizing up their prey. Her mind was blank. Her body was beginning to numb.

One wolf leapt for Ariel's right arm, latching onto it with vicious teeth. The bite sunk deeply, and Ariel screamed in pain. The weight and momentum of the wolf brought her crashing down to earth with a thud, making her an even more helpless target for the salivating pack.

The wolf that first attacked continued to savage Ariel's arm, and she continued to scream in agony. Blood soon flowed freely, and Ariel felt the warm, wet sensation trickle down the cooled skin of her forearm.

Another wolf clamped its powerful jaws around Ariel's left foot, pulling jerkily at it. In an instant reaction, Ariel attempted to kick it off, but the wolf was far too powerful for her.

With her bloodied right arm wrenched back in one direction and her left leg being pulled in another, Ariel struggled violently with the remainder of all her strength, in a final attempt to loosen the grip of the wolves. But it all seemed useless, as another wolf leapt upon Ariel's chest, digging its claws into her collarbone area. Ariel could feel the crushing weight of the wolf atop her, but do nothing about it.

Feeling the wolf's fetid breath upon her face, Ariel turned her head sideways and shut her eyes tightly, awaiting death.


	8. Chapter 7

I should probably warn you there's a little violence here. I should have probably warned you last chapter too. Oops, my bad.

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

**"Kindness and Cunning"**

When faced with the brunt reality of one's own mortality, the mind can race through countless thoughts in very little time.

Mostly, Ariel thought of her family. Her father, her sisters—childhood memories as vivid as they were bittersweet.

She recalled the past year in detail. All the trials, the traumas. Her own emotions—regret, longing, despair.

And she thought of the human girl, Belle. How, despite whether her intentions were pure or not, her meddling had inadvertently led to this horrific, violent death...

_No. _Ariel corrected her target of blame._ This is __my__ fault. It's __all__ my fault_. _My death was going to happen soon, anyway. Please, just let it be quick…_

But, no. The wolf would not claim Ariel's jugular and subsequently, her life.

Ariel's eyes sprang open at the grotesque cracking sound of a wolf's neck being snapped. Immediately, the sensation of the crushing weight upon her chest lifted. She was both incredibly surprised and utterly relieved to see Belle looming over her now, wielding the axe that Ariel had dropped in the woods.

Belle had placed the axe's handle under the wolf's chin and twisted it roughly, killing the fiend instantly, before using all of her might to heave the wolf's carcass off the helpless Ariel.

Now, she stood firmly in the snow, axe raised preparing to battle the remaining wolves. A determined scowl was upon her lovely face, her alert eyes darting every which way.

Ariel noticed also that the other two wolves that were previously latched onto her limbs had released their grip, their focus now on Belle. With a silent sigh of relief, Ariel allowed her body to relax somewhat, growing heavier upon the snow.

The wolf pack danced around Belle cautiously, seemingly aware that she was wielding an effective weapon. Her wits sharp, her young, adrenaline-charged body capable, Belle courageously leapt into combat.

Ariel could hear the wolves snarling and snapping at Belle, as well as the sound of shredding material, as a wolf snared Belle's cloak between its gleaming fangs. But she also heard wolves yelping and howling in pain, as Belle swiped her axe with swift and forceful precision.

Intentionally, Belle led the wolves further from where Ariel lay. Shouting at them, goading them, she danced away, holding their attention.

The battle was to rage on fiercely for quite some time, and as the moments passed, Ariel felt her consciousness begin to slip away, her mind grow hazy, her eyes become blurred. Both complete exhaustion and severe blood loss were beginning to take their toll.

One wolf managed to leap up onto Belle's right shoulder, its front paws digging into her skin through multiple clothing layers. In a lightening fast reflex, Belle struck the handle of the axe backward, slamming the end of it squarely between the wolf's eyes. Letting out a whimper, the wolf slid off Belle and crashed to the snow covered earth heavily, rendered unconscious.

Another wolf latched onto one of Belle's work boots, making it more difficult for Belle to remain balanced. Still, she managed to kick it away, her foot lashing out in a rapid movement, the wolf yelping as it was sent tumbling across the frosty ground.

Belle's heart raced, her breath rushed out in frosty gasps. She feared gravely for Ariel's life as well as her own, and she refused to give in. She was desperate to be the victor of this fearsome skirmish.

Yet another wolf lunged at Belle, after prowling carefully just outside the battle perimeter for sometime. At the same instant the wolf attacked, Belle thrusted the axe downward, hard and fast. With gruesome accuracy, the axe landed firmly in the wolf's head, slicing through its skull. There was a fair splattering of blood, some even landing upon Belle's face.

Grimacing in disgust, Belle withdrew the axe and threw it to the ground. She felt nauseous, from fear, striving effort, and having to kill living animals.

She was kneeling in the inches-deep snow now, the whistling of a bitterly cold wind the only sound that could currently be heard as any surviving wolves had promptly fled upon realising that they were fighting a losing battle.

Recovering for a moment from the ordeal, Belle stared vacantly into the distance as she caught her breath. Before long however, she snapped back to reality and rose quickly off her knees, rushing over to Ariel who lay badly wounded and semi-conscious in the snow. Silently, Belle kneeled beside Ariel, whose breathing was quick and shallow. A worrying amount of blood had gushed from her injured arm, and the sub-zero temperature only made her weakened condition worse.

Lying now on her side, Ariel weakly lifted her head and turned it. A blurry vision of Belle's concerned, blood-splattered face was the last image that Ariel saw before she fainted into unconsciousness.

"Ariel... can you hear me?" No response. Belle unclipped her hooded cloak and gently draped it over Ariel, wishing to shield her from hypothermia if it was not already too late. "You'll be alright now… you'll be alright now," Belle whispered in a comforting tone, a small part of her in fact consoling herself as she fought off shock.

Knowing it was best to push on, to not think too much about what had just happened, Belle then very carefully slid her arms underneath Ariel's limp form, supporting her behind the torso and across the backs of her knees. It was not easy, lifting her from upon the frozen earth. Belle strained considerably, but adrenaline still flowed through her veins and Ariel was underweight, therefore it was manageable for Belle to carry her.

Trudging back toward the castle, the snowy wind blowing harshly in her face, Belle cradled Ariel firmly in her arms, her destination safety—for both of them.

* * *

Warmth. It was the first thing that Ariel noticed upon slowly regaining consciousness. When last she was awake, Ariel remembered feeling bitterly cold. Deathly cold.

Yet now she was warm.

Ariel slowly blinked her eyes several times, as her vision came into focus. She was ensconced within a plush single bed, blankets draped over her in abundance.

She knew she wasn't in her own bedroom, but she was somehow, miraculously, back at the castle. Lifting her head slightly, Ariel noticed a healthy, crackling fire to her right.

Seated some distance away from the comfort of the fire, in a far corner of the room, were Ariel's friends from the sea. They watched in silent relief as their princess stirred, all quite fatigued from keeping a lengthy bedside vigil.

Also there, much closer to the fire, was Belle's pet Cheeky. He was curled up, asleep, content for now to dream of rich milk and hordes of food.

Ariel exhaled in relief, realising she was safe, comfortable… and still alive.

Glancing to her left, she finally noticed Belle. Her rescuer was quite close, leaning against a bedside armchair. With one arm bended against the chair's seat cushion so her head rested upon her hand, the exhausted Belle was sound asleep. Her hair was messy, her face pale.

Startled by Belle's proximity, Ariel sat bolt upright, letting out a gasp. At the sound of sudden movement, Belle's weary eyes blinked open.

After staring at Belle for a brief moment, Ariel managed to murmur in a confused tone: "How did I get here? What… what happened?"

Belle gazed at her with sleepy eyes. "Hey, there. Welcome back," she said quietly, a relieved smile flickering upon her face.

Ariel frowned a little as she studied Belle carefully. "You… you look terrible."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks." Suddenly feeling aware that she must look a fright, Belle pushed some wayward hair back from her face, and straightened her shoulders.

With a sigh, Ariel replied: "You know what I mean." She then adjusted herself so as to be more comfortable. Suddenly, as she shifted upon the bed, Ariel was overtaken by the undeniable urge to scratch her arm.

Looking down at her right arm, with its gashes and abrasions surrounded by dry blood, all at once Ariel remembered, in most part, the traumatic wolf attack.

Not wishing to think about the evening's events too much, she then proceeded to carelessly scratch her injured arm.

"Hey, whoa! Don't do that!" Belle warned, suddenly moving forward and pushing Ariel's hand away, disrupting the scratch. Alarmed that Belle had touched her, Ariel flinched, before clasping her injured arm and defensively pulling it away.

"Don't be a baby," Belle began with a hint of frustration in her voice, "I need to clean that before it gets infected."

For the first time, Ariel noticed a ceramic bowl a foot or so away from Belle, steam indicating that hot water rested within. Belle reached for the steaming bowl, lifted out a submerged cloth, and wrung it out thoroughly.

Ariel's eyes grew wide. "Oh no you don't!"

Without hesitation, Belle moved forward once more, cloth in hand. "Please. Don't start. I'm only trying to help..."

Belle attempted to land the moistened cloth on Ariel's wounds, but Ariel moved her arm away at the last second.

"I said _don't start_!"

"And I said, '_Oh no you don't_'!"

In a rapid motion, Belle's cloth bearing hand darted out suddenly, managing to press the wound directly—gently, but firmly.

"OWW!" Ariel screamed, wincing dramatically. "Not fair!"

"Ariel, I'm being as gentle as I possibly can. Maybe if you stopped fidgeting, it wouldn't hurt as much!" Belle shot back, raising her voice a little.

"Whatever," Ariel groaned, crossing her arms, as Belle had now retracted the cloth. "This is your fault, anyway."

"_What_?" Belle began to frown, somewhat annoyed by that comment. "How is this _my _fault?"

"Well, if you hadn't _trespassed_ here, I wouldn't have gotten the idea to go off into the woods by myself, would I?" Ariel argued ridiculously.

In truth, Ariel was more embarrassed than anything else. She felt such a fool, risking her life like that, and guilty for risking Belle's… but 'sorry' was never an easy word to say.

Belle could only shake her head in disbelief. "Oh, is that right? Look, I'm sorry about asking you those questions in the ballroom before, but it's not _my _fault you felt you had to go on this _big mission_ to prove how capable you are. In fact, I'd say you succeeded in proving the opposite." A triumphant grin grew on Belle's face as she retaliated.

Ariel simply scowled and averted her gaze. "Stupid know-it-all human," she muttered under her breath, causing Belle to sigh in disdain whilst glancing downward.

Glaring into the ceramic bowl of steaming water, Belle then murmured her own irritated comment: "Well someone in this room is pre-menstrual, and it's not me."

"_What_?" Ariel snapped, her gaze sharply returning to Belle. "What did you say?"

"Never mind," Belle dismissed as she looked back up. "But in all seriousness, Ariel—are you _always_ this reckless?"

Ariel's eyes grew wide, her scowl softening. She had to admit, she had no comeback for that comment. It was partly due to such recklessness that she had become human in the first place, thus creating this whole entire mess for herself. Her answer was merely a meek shrug, as she averted her gaze once more.

Noticing that Ariel had fallen silent, Belle quickly began, "OK, now hold still this time. And please don't scream my ear off again." She raised the cloth once more, and Ariel gritted her teeth, bracing herself for the pain. Belle noticed Ariel's over reaction in anticipation of the cloth, and shook her head slightly—though she couldn't keep from smiling a little.

After a long silence, once Ariel had grown accustomed to the stinging sensation that accompanied the cleaning of a wound, she finally worked up the courage to say something she'd actually intended to say since regaining consciousness.

"Ummm, Belle?" She began, almost in a whisper.

"Hmmm…?"

Ariel forced her gaze to meet Belle's, so she could make sincere eye contact. Belle became still, pausing from her careful cleaning of the wound.

"Thank you… for saving my life."

Belle stared at her for a moment, before smiling warmly. "You're welcome," she replied softly, her eyes as sincere as her words.

Ariel managed a faint smile despite her pain, humiliation and guilt.

Their mutual gaze remained for some time. Ariel was eventually the one to break it, dropping her eyes, a humble expression now upon her face.

Ariel's friends from the sea all seemed to sigh in relief simultaneously; Cheeky just kept right on sleeping.

As she felt Belle's soft hands gently begin to tend to her injured arm once more, Ariel knew, beyond any fathom of a doubt, that Belle was one human she need not fear.

* * *

In the dark depths of the early hours, a single soul walked the stark corridors of the Maison de Lunes. The screams and cries of the damned locked within their cells sent shivers down his spine. He felt sweat beads forming on his palms.

_UGH. What a revolting place! Best to get this over with as quick as possible_.

As Gaston strode past another thick, metallic door, he was startled by a dishevelled older man's face suddenly appearing from behind iron bars, his dark eyes as empty as the prison that was holding him.

"May the rats eat your eyes!" He shouted at the handsome young man brave enough to stalk these halls at night, "The darkness comes! It will damn us all!"

He yelled with such gusto that spittle sprayed and landed upon Gaston's face. With a disgusted grimace, Gaston wiped his forearm across his chiselled features. "Freak! I oughta belt you one!"

"A little hard to do, considering you are on the sane side of the door."

A rich voice spoke with chillingly even tones from further down the corridor. Gaston spun around to see the stiff, bony figure of Monsieur D'Arque looming several metres away.

D'Arque was rigid as steel, unperturbed by the shrill pleas and angry shouts from the many nameless, faceless patients.

"Monsieur Gaston. Shall we speak in my office?"

Gaston eyed the immediate area with growing hatred. "Yes _please!_"

D'Arque's office was small, but at least the moans of the doomed souls within the asylum were relatively muffled. The room was very tidy; not a paper out of place. A large candle placed upon the middle of D'Arque's wooden desk illuminated the area adequately. Also on the desk was a bottle of brandy and two drinking glasses.

Gaston noticed the alcohol immediately after sitting down. "So _this_ is how you stay sane."

D'Arque chuckled grimly. "Well, it helps. But so does my general contempt for humanity."

"Charming," Gaston grumbled, eyeing D'Arque coldly. Ironically, this was one thing the pair had in common; the only difference being that Gaston hadn't the intelligence to realise how much contempt he held for others, let alone to admit openly to it.

D'Arque lifted the brandy bottle. "Care for a drink?"

"I'm not the sort of man to say 'no' to a free drink," Gaston replied, pushing his glass forward. Still, he refused to smile. Something about D'Arque did not sit right with him… _Or maybe this creepy hellhole is just getting to me._

D'Arque obliged, pouring a full glass for his guest, and then for himself. Lifting his glass, D'Arque then sniffed the alcohol, inhaling the intoxicating aroma, before swallowing a gulp. Gaston took a sip of his own, his pale blue eyes fixed on D'Arque, unshifting.

"Aaaah," D'Arque enjoyed the fluid, perhaps a little too much. "Now… the reason why we're here. Belle Cartier."

Gaston's eyes glistened, a wicked grin now allowing itself to form upon his lips. "Yes. She needs some… erm, _persuasion _to realise that marrying me is the best thing for her."

D'Arque glanced down, into his drink. "Quite. Well, I do have a plan…" Now, he raised his eyes, staring intrusively at Gaston with them. "But I will only help you for twenty gold coins. _No less_."

It was a price Gaston was certainly willing to pay, if it ensured Belle's marriage to him. "OK," he nodded.

D'Arque smirked, stroking his chin. "Belle and Maurice are very close… Why, they always have been…" He glanced sideways as his mind wandered, remembering the time when he had first encountered Belle as a child.

"Yeah… so?" Gaston's impatient words snapped D'Arque back to reality.

D'Arque was annoyed by this interruption to his thoughts, but chose not to show it. "Well, Maurice's mind seems to be becoming less and less stable… Tonight, for instance. Talking sea creatures, indeed."

Gaston laughed as he remembered Maurice's ridiculous story. "Yeah, that's for sure. What's next? Singing candlesticks?"

D'Arque grew a wide, sinister smile. "Perhaps... he has finally earned the right to have a… '_vacation_' here."

Gaston was dumbfounded. His jaw fell open as he glared at D'Arque with confused eyes. "What? Lock Maurice up? But Belle would…"

"Not be too pleased about it, certainly," D'Arque finished Gaston's sentence with an overwhelming understatement. "But… there may be hope for poor, old Maurice. I could decide to let him go… if Belle agrees to marry you."

Gaston could only stare in response. The plan was so devious, so… _despicable_. After a brief moment, Gaston slammed both fists down on the table with enthusiasm. "That's brilliant! Why on earth didn't _I_ think of that?"

D'Arque averted his gaze, his sinister smile still present. _Because you are a fool, like most of the witless peasants who live in this town_.

Suddenly, Gaston's face fell. His brow creased with concern. "But… but what if it doesn't work? What if she _still_ refuses?"

D'Arque shrugged, his manner as cool and composed as the words he then spoke. "We'll simply lock her up as well. Until… she sees sense."

Gaston raised both jet black eyebrows. He shuddered at the thought of being incarcerated in this mental asylum… and imagined Belle would detest it also. "Hell, I'd rather marry _Ramon_ than be locked up here," he then said aloud, much to D'Arque's amusement.

The older man chuckled. "Quite. That's the point, really." He took another drink from his brandy glass. Smacking his lips, he then added: "And I happen to know for a fact that being institutionalised is one of Belle's deepest fears."

Gaston was quite taken aback by this comment, letting his jaw fall open once more. "Really? How do you know that?"

D'Arque narrowed his eyes, smiling smugly. "You don't know?"

"Know _what_?" The young hunter huffed.

D'Arque paused before answering, no doubt for dramatic effect. "That… Belle was nearly institutionalised as a child."

"_WHAT_?"

"I know, I know," D'Arque laughed as he gazed into his brandy glass, "not exactly something you want to hear about your future bride, is it? But I took the case myself. She was quite a troubled child."

"How old was she?" Gaston was shamelessly curious, hanging off D'Arque's every word.

"Nine. She tried to burn down the town's church."

Gaston couldn't believe his ears. "You have got to be making this up."

D'Arque chuckled in a dismissive manner. "No, my boy. But you could say she had her reasons… It was about her mother. Belle has always had an insatiably inquisitive mind… She went to our priest for answers regarding her mother's death. Why had the Lord taken her so early, when Belle was so young…" D'Arque sighed with the closing comment, but Gaston did not seem to notice this uncharacteristic reaction. Luckily for D'Arque, Gaston was not the most observant of fellows, as D'Arque was now becoming lost in the memories of the incidents that had occurred ten years ago…

_Such passion for knowledge. Such passion for… living. Quite the non-conformist, even as a child… She was never going to be just like everybody else. Destined to be unique… special._

Remembering who his present company was, D'Arque shook himself mentally. He cleared his throat, before continuing the story.

"Well, nevertheless Father Deviine could not give her any answers that satisfied her. So she… _rebelled_. Of course, she chose a time when the church would be empty. It was about making a statement..."

Gaston folded his brawny arms and clicked his tongue. "She was only a kid. Her mum died… it's not like she's 'crazy'…"

"Did I say she was?" D'Arque defended himself. "Anyway, I was to assess her. We had quite a few sessions… needless to say, she grew to despise me." His voice remained smooth and calm, but D'Arque's features darkened upon completing the explanation. As usual, Gaston failed to notice, the egocentric man tuned in only to his own thoughts and emotions.

"So… the idea of being locked up in here…" Gaston began slowly as he raised a hand to his great, clefted chin, "is like… her worst nightmare?"

"Precisely."

Gaston grew a dangerous smile, one that could arguably equal D'Arque's most menacing grin. "Well, dare I say, this plan of yours is just about foolproof!"

D'Arque forced the sinister simper to return to his weathered, wrinkled face. "Indeed."

* * *

Several hours later, the sun was rising to greet what was to be a clear, beautiful day, a stark contrast to the howling, frigid winds of the evening previous.

Often as he did, Maurice had holed himself up in his basement, tinkering with his gadgets and gizmos for as long as he wished. He had recently immersed himself in his work more so than usual, to compensate for the loneliness he felt in Belle's absence. He also desired to have new or improved devices with which to surprise and impress his daughter upon her return.

_I wonder how much longer she'll be gone_, Maurice pondered with tool in hand, as he fiddled with one of his numerous contraptions. _Maybe she'll be home today. Or maybe tomorrow_…

Abruptly, he stopped. Maurice's tool free hand flew up, clutching his chest. He felt the blood draining from his face. His lungs tightened, and he involuntarily let out a wheeze.

Clearing his throat, Maurice was relieved when the sensation soon passed.

Not stopping to think about it for even a moment, due to his relatively quick recovery, Maurice then proceeded to lose himself in his work once more.


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

**"Blossoming"**

It was mid morning, and a gloriously bright morning at that—though, the significant chill of winter could still be felt in the air. A cheerful blanket of white now covered the entire castle yard, from the tops of the pathetic excuses for trees, to the tangled vines that climbed the castle's many walls of stone, to the cracked and broken marble statues that used to decorate the castle's expansive garden area before age and neglect rendered them unattractive.

From her balcony view, Ariel could see out far into the distance due to the clear skies. Although she could stare in wonder at the beautiful, glittering snow blankets that stretched into the forest and beyond, seemingly forever, at this time Ariel's gaze only had one focus: Belle.

She watched the human girl return to the castle's yard once more, enthusiastically pushing another wheelbarrow near full of fresh firewood, collected from the forest. Belle was in good spirits this morning, she was almost jogging. Cheeky bounded along just after her, lifting his paws higher than usual due to the cold sensation he experienced from walking in the snow.

Uncannily, Belle almost seemed to know that she was being watched. Stopping abruptly, she glanced upward, her eyes immediately finding Ariel. Without hesitation, Belle gave a little wave, a warm, friendly smile accompanying her hand gesture. Shyly, but politely, Ariel smiled and waved back.

Ariel's smile soon became a giggle; Belle, her eyes yet to return forward, stumbled with the wheelbarrow as she began to manoeuvre it again, a piece of wood tumbling out and landing upon her foot.

Cheeky could only watch, unperturbed, as he heard Belle mutter under her breath: "Stupid wheelbarrow."

Still laughing to herself, Ariel shook her head slightly. Right upon the balcony's railing, just beside Ariel's hand, sat Sebastian. His pincers were rested against his hips, though not in a grumpy manner.

Feeling a sudden, dull twinge of pain, Ariel creased her brow slightly and clutched her injured arm. It had been carefully bandaged, though the long, billowy sleeve of Ariel's blouse hid the bandage well.

Rubbing her arm gently, Ariel sighed, now in quite a serious frame of mind. "She saved my life, Sebastian."

"Hmmm?" The crab looked up at his princess. He had also been watching Belle navigate the clumsy wheelbarrow back toward the castle's entrance.

"Even after the way I treated her… I was so rude… and… she was only trying to help…" Ariel spoke quietly, obviously feeling remorse.

"Come now, you weren't _that_ mean. After all, she _is _human…" Sebastian also spoke softly, not quite so adamant in defaming humans this morning.

"It's no excuse. I've been behaving like a child… she never gave me any reason to be suspicious of her."

"Ariel, I think you're being too hard on yourself. Considering all that has happened…"

"I know, I know…" Ariel sighed again, casting her eyes downward. "But… I really feel terrible. Even after the way I acted, she's still here, still trying to help. I think I should do something to try and make it up to her."

"Like what?"

Ariel flickered a tiny smile, but then became puzzled, her mouth quickly falling slightly agape. "Well, I have absolutely no idea."

Sebastian tapped his pincer against his chin, pondering the possibilities. "Hmmm. Well… you could make her a card."

Ariel frowned at the suggestion. "I think that's a bit inadequate, considering she saved my life."

"Well, it could be a _big _card…"

Ariel rolled her eyes, speaking the crab's name with a slight whine. "_Sebastian_…"

"Yes, perhaps you're right. How about some flowers, then?"

"But… it's winter." She glanced down toward the snow-covered gardens. "Most of the flowers are dead, I think."

Sebastian was fast running out of ideas. "Ummm… a gift basket?"

Ariel shrugged. "And I would put what in it, exactly?"

Hearing the entire conversation, Scuttle swooped down, deciding to intervene. He had been perched only just above them, upon a snow filled gutter.

The eager-to-please seagull spoke immediately. "Don't'cha think it should be something special? Like, ummm…"

Scuttle scratched his feathery head for a moment. Sebastian crossed his pincers and glanced up at Ariel, mumbling with sarcasm: "Well, _this_ should be good."

Ariel mouthed Sebastian's name to him, encouraging him to be kinder to their feathered friend.

All of a sudden, Scuttle's face lit up as he remembered something important from the previous evening. "Hey, I got it! What was that thing, the thing she got so excited about?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. As usual, Scuttle was being too vague for anyone to understand what indeed the seagull was blabbering about.

"Y'know! Last night, when we were playing cards…" Persisting, Scuttle nudged the crab, hoping to jog Sebastian's memory.

"_The thing she got so excited about_?" Ariel repeated, a little dumbfounded by Scuttle's inarticulate description.

In a flash, Sebastian's eyes widened and he grew a satisfied smile. Satisfied, that is, because he finally remembered what in fact Scuttle was referring to.

"I… I don't believe it, mon. That's actually a good idea. In fact, Ariel," he smiled up at his princess, "it's a _great_ idea!"

* * *

"You wanted to see me?" Belle asked with cheer in her voice, greeting Ariel with a smile.

Several hours after the brainstorming session in the balcony, though still in the bright light of day, Belle's gift was at last ready. Scuttle had fetched her on Ariel's command, and now he, along with Sebastian, Tip and Dash, watched from nearby, in anticipation of the unveiling.

"Hey, I heard Scuttle had a good idea," Tip whispered amongst the creatures, somewhat bemused. "I guess there really is a first time for everything."

Dash glared at the penguin, but Scuttle only smiled with a sense of self-satisfaction, unaware that Tip was, in fact, insulting him.

"Uh, yeah. I have something for you," Ariel answered Belle softly, smiling a little, quite excited herself. After a brief pause, she then frowned slightly and asked: "You weren't busy, were you?"

"Oh no, I was just mucking about with Cheeky. He's still playful as a kitten sometimes." Belle smiled as she spoke, before looking up at an unfamiliar set of double doors—she had not managed to explore this section of the castle the night before. "Wow, its… two big doors!" She then joked, playfully folding her arms.

"It's what is on the other side of the doors," Ariel laughed a little, placing her hand on one doorknob and beginning to turn it. However, she abruptly stopped, before turning back to face Belle. "Oh, wait. Could you close your eyes first?"

Belle lifted one eyebrow, her expression now a skeptical smile.

"Because, it's a surprise…" Ariel then added, her eyes glancing behind her toward the surprise-in-waiting.

Before Belle even had a chance to answer, or indeed do as she was asked, Scuttle fluttered up off the ground from where he had been standing, and landed somewhat awkwardly on Belle's shoulders, covering her eyes with his wings.

"How's this, princess?" He asked Ariel, rather impressed with himself.

"Uh, thanks Scuttle," the blinded Belle said, giving Scuttle the 'thumbs up' gesture.

"_Doofus_," Sebastian whispered harshly at the seagull, crossing his pincers in front of his chest.

"Scuttle," Ariel half-sighed, half-groaned as she rolled her eyes at the seagull, "I think she can manage by herself."

"Oh. Right," Scuttle said, before removing his wings from covering Belle's eyes, then removing himself from her shoulders, gliding back toward his three fellow sea-dwellers and resuming his excited expectancy.

Without a word, Belle then proceeded to close her eyes, a smile still upon her face as she tried not to laugh at Scuttle's silliness. Silently waving a hand in front of Belle's face to assure that she could not see, Ariel then turned the doorknob once more, this time the whole way.

"Hey, we're not at the dungeons," Tip noted with a smirk. "Human girl should go to dungeons."

Eyes still closed, Belle responded with a hint of humour in her voice: "You know Tip, I'm getting hungry. I wonder how long it takes to roast a penguin?"

Ariel could only laugh, but Tip was mortified, his face falling instantly. "Hey, don't even _joke_ about that!"

"You started it," Dash light-heartedly reprimanded his penguin friend.

Hearing the door creak open now, Belle then asked Ariel: "Should I open them?"

"No, not now," Ariel answered, and after a moment of hesitation, she tentatively took Belle's hands and carefully began to back into the darkened room.

Once Ariel estimated that they were standing in the centre of the room, she then said: "Now wait here. Keep your eyes closed, no peeking, alright?"

With a giggle and a shrug, Belle answered: "Alright."

Rushing over to the curtain covered windows, Ariel then hastily drew the curtains back. Belle could feel the soft afternoon sunshine glowing on her face, and the brightness filtering through her tightly-shut-eyes.

"I open them now, right?" Belle asked again, her smile becoming an anxious one—she didn't know what to expect. Well, at the very least, she knew it was not the dungeons.

"Wait…" Ariel began, before adding a pause to enhance the suspense. "…Now."

Belle opened her eyes slowly, knowing they'd have to adjust to the change in light. Then, they sparkled with delight as she let out a bewildered gasp, hardly believing the sight that she was seeing. This room was grand, as grand as any other within the castle. What made this room special however, was the fact that there were shelves upon shelves of books. Every square inch of the farthest wall was covered in rows of books, and the shelves reached all the way to the high, dome-shaped ceiling. In the centre of another wall was a beautifully designed inbuilt fireplace, and several leather armchairs were arranged near it.

"This… is this the library?" Belle could barely speak, she was so overwhelmed.

"Uh huh," Ariel clasped her hands in front of her, also having a proper look around.

"It's… it's… so… I, uhhh… ummm…"

"Are you alright?" Ariel asked, becoming concerned. "You look… confused, or something. Do you like it?"

Before Ariel had a chance to react, Belle passed out, purely out of bibliophilic bliss. Although the fall was quick, it was fairly soft, so Belle hadn't harmed herself. Ariel strode over, worried, although she did appreciate the situation to be slightly amusing.

Within seconds, Belle roused. She groggily half sat up, resting her elbows against the floor. Ariel was kneeling close by, a troubled look upon her face.

"Are you OK? You… fainted."

"Huh…?" Belle replied, seeming somewhat perplexed. "Oh, I… I thought I was dreaming."

Ariel managed to break into a smile. "You dream about books?"

With a silly grin, Belle glanced away, somewhat embarrassed. She noticed the sea creatures loitering in the library doorway, all stifling snickers, Tip the loudest of them.

"Great," Belle began as she turned back to Ariel, "an audience. I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

"Well… as long as this means that you like it." Ariel replied, with a sincere smile.

"Like it? It's magnificent!" Belle proclaimed as she became completely upright, still sitting upon the floor. "It's sensational!" She slowly rose to her feet now, as Ariel also did. "It's stupendous! It's…"

"It's yours," Ariel finally interjected. "It's my way of saying thank you, for what you did for me last night…"

Remembering the traumatic events of the previous evening, Ariel cast her eyes downward. Because of this, she failed to notice Belle lunge at her for an appreciative hug. "Thank you so much!"

Ariel froze. For that first, brief moment, out of fear—but then out of shock. With surprise at herself, Ariel half-hugged back, slowly raising her right hand and placing it in the middle of Belle's back, her stunned expression relaxing a little as she did so.

Still watching, now from the library's entrance, the four sea friends could only stare in silence, their jaws almost falling open simultaneously.

Abruptly, Belle broke the embrace, taking a shy step backward, remembering how Ariel felt about humans. Blushing mildly, she turned away, eagerly wanting to investigate the countless books stacked into the shelves.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, until Ariel remembered that there was something else she wished to say. "Belle," she began quietly, with a guilty expression now on her face, "I'm sorry that I called you a 'stupid know-it-all human.'"

Belle spun back around upon hearing these words, distracted from her books. She then smiled at Ariel sincerely and replied: "That's alright. To tell you the truth, I was quite impressed by your ability to conjure an effective oxymoron."

"Uhhh… thanks," Ariel half smiled back, not entirely sure what Belle had meant. After another short silence, Ariel then said: "Well, I guess I better leave you to it."

Belle glanced sideways, thinking for a moment. Her expression made it appear that she had become slightly nervous.

"You don't have to… leave, I mean…" Belle began, softly and slowly. "This _is_ a big library, and… stories are always more exciting when you share them with someone."

"Stories?"

In her time as a mermaid, Ariel had loved reading herself. She in fact had a secret grotto, not too far from her underwater palace home, filled with countless human treasures—including many books. She used to spend hours shut away in there, delving into her human adventure stories, imagining herself as a human, in the midst of the adventure herself.

It was at this moment that Ariel realised, in her entire time spent as a human, she was yet to read a single book. She began to smile excitedly, before shrugging her shoulders a little. "OK," was all she said, brightly and with enthusiasm.

"And besides," Belle added as an afterthought, somewhat light-heartedly, "I may faint again. I need someone to keep an eye on me."

"Yes, Belle," Ariel replied, with a silly smile and roll of her eyes.

In her peripheral vision, Ariel suddenly noticed her friends all standing on the doorway, still gawking with their mouths wide open. She gave them a look that said, 'You can go now,' before wandering over to the nearest shelf she wished to peruse.

Silently, still in shock, Sebastian, Scuttle, Tip and Dash retreated from the doorway, with Tip and Dash slowly creaking the doors closed behind them.

"Oh, wow! I don't believe it!"

Belle's excited words interrupted Ariel's browsing, Ariel glancing sideways to see what Belle had discovered.

"There's a copy of 'The Wind Waker' here!" Belle, clasping a book bearing a golden cover, told Ariel. "It's the only installment in the 'Legend of Zelda' series that I haven't read yet. I've never even _seen_ a copy of this before!" She then explained in depth, moving toward Ariel as she did so.

"Really?" Ariel asked, looking down at the dusty, but grandly presented book.

The pages were edged with gold, and a vivid, detailed illustration adorned the cover. It depicted a young elf boy, holding what appeared to be a conductor's baton in his hand, whilst standing in a small, red sailing ship. The bow of the ship was a fierce, yet somehow friendly-looking wooden carved dragon's head.

"It looks interesting. I haven't read any of the other books in the series, though."

"That's alright, I don't think it's actually necessary." Belle opened the book, flicking through a numerous amount of pages. "It's so strange, I only just began reading the original 'The Legend of Zelda' again the other day…"

Belle began to slowly stride toward the unlit fireplace as she spoke, more specifically, to one of the very comfortable-looking leather armchairs. Sinking into the ample plushness, Belle then asked Ariel, who had followed her over to the sitting area: "Would you like me to read this one? It _is _the perfect kind of story to be read aloud…"

A little reluctant at first, Ariel then lowered herself to sit cross-legged upon the floor, just in front of the fireplace, despite the fact that no fire had been kindled.

"If you want to," she answered quietly, once she had made herself as comfortable as possible.

"Great!" Belle was delighted—the only live audience to experience the magical world of 'The Legend of Zelda' before now was Cheeky—and he often slept through the important parts of any story. It was wonderful to have a _proper_ audience.

"But if you do get sick of me reading it aloud, just tell me to shut up, OK?" Belle said, smiling a little.

Ariel smiled back. "OK," she agreed, though she hadn't at all meant it seriously.

"Alright, I'm glad that's settled," Belle continued to smile as she opened the book to its starting page. Taking a deep breath, she began to read the epic tale. "_This is but one legend of which the people speak…_"

* * *

"Can somebody please tell me what happened back there?" Sebastian huffed, pacing back and forth along Ariel's bedroom floor.

"Chill out, Sebastian!" Scuttle tried to calm the crab down. "I haven't seen Ariel smile like that in ages! Not since she was…"

"A mermaid? Hmpph." Sebastian folded his pincers. "I know that girl saved the princesses' life, but that doesn't give her the right to do as she pleases! Ariel could have been suffocated."

"It was a _hug_," Dash said to the overreacting crab, the walrus sitting at the foot of Ariel's luxurious bed. "And besides, I don't think that Ariel minded."

"That's the problem!" Sebastian threw up his pincers. "All of a sudden, she's grown complacent. Has she already forgotten what those other humans put her through?"

"Well, I guess Belle's not like those other humans," Dash stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, for starters she's a vege-ma-tarian… whatever that is," Tip added his opinion into the mix.

After retaliating with another "Hmmph!" Sebastian then relaxed his cranky expression and said: "Look, I just want Ariel to be careful. I don't want to see her get hurt again."

"I know, Sebastian," Dash responded gently. "None of us do."

Beginning to pace again, Sebastian caught glimpse of the wilting sea-rose. He shook his head sadly and sighed. "I just don't understand why this is all happening now. Soon, Ariel will be a mermaid again, and soon after that she'll… she'll…"

"We know," Tip saved Sebastian the trouble of finishing that harrowing sentence. The penguin then glanced at the sea-rose also. It was now drooping very noticeably, missing quite a few petals. "Hmmm. If Belle is so nice, maybe we could ask her to take us to the ocean, or something."

"We can't ask her to do that," Sebastian rejected Tip's idea. "She's already done enough." The crab sighed. "She may not even know where the ocean is,. anyway."

Dash suddenly became very morose, slumping his blubbery shoulders. The harsh reality of Ariel's fate seemed to have hit him all at once. "I guess there's no way to save the princess," he sighed, with a heavy heart.

Both Sebastian and Tip's expressions also changed to ones of great sorrow, matching that of the broken-hearted walrus. Scuttle however, frowned a little, thinking hard.

After a moment, without hesitation, the seagull suddenly blurted out: "Hey, unless those two fall in love, or somethin'."

Sebastian, Tip and Dash all turned their heads to glare at him in unison. "What?" Scuttle squawked at them, shrugging his feathery shoulders.

"That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!" Tip yelled at his fellow bird, throwing up his jet black fins. "That would never work."

"But don't you remember what the sea witch said?" Scuttle asked them all. "Y'know, how if Ariel could find a human to love, one that loves her in return…"

"I can't believe you remember that," Sebastian said to Scuttle. "That was nearly a year ago."

"Hey, I remember the important stuff!" The normally scatterbrained seagull informed Sebastian, not to mention Tip and Dash.

"Hmmph," Sebastian grumbled for the third time within the current conversation.

Dash grew a hopeful smile. "Well… it _might_ work… If humans _can_ love after all... I mean, nothing is impossible, right?

"You fitting into a seashell is impossible," Tip comically remarked, but only in good fun.

Ignoring his friend's jibe at his heftiness, Dash continued, quietly and with seriousness: "It may be the only way… to save Ariel's life."

Sebastian thought a moment. _If there was even a tiny bit of truth in those words, if it __was__ the __only__ way…_

"Alright!" Sebastian threw up his powerful pincers. "I think this is madness, but we have no choice. From now on, we must do our best to bring them together."

"Geez!" Tip scowled, rolling his eyes. "Keep them apart, bring them together. What will we be doing tomorrow? Selling shrimp to humans at the local market? This is nuts."

"Yes, well, it _was_ Scuttle's idea…" Sebastian said to no one in particular, momentarily becoming a little unsure of the plan. Scuttle simply smiled, taking in the statement as a compliment.

"Well, I think it's a good idea,'' Dash said, his hopeful smile returning, wider than before. "And I don't even think we'll have to do that much." The others all looked at him vacantly as he finished off by saying: "I mean, at the moment, they're already together. Remember? The library?"

* * *

"… _Now, armed with the shield that bore his family's crest, a shield to compliment his simple—but by no means, useless—sword, the brave young boy named Link ventured onto the pirates' ship in hope that they would help him to find his missing sister…_"

As Belle read, Ariel listened intently, sometimes imagining herself to be a character within this particular story, perhaps an inhabitant of Outset Island, where the young hero and his family lived, or maybe even one of the pirates.

At the completion of this particular paragraph however, Ariel said, in a voice that held a twinge of sadness: "I have sisters."

Immediately pausing from the story, Belle looked up from the text, over the top edge of the book, at Ariel. "Really?" Was all that she said, Belle then frowning at herself when she realised the inanity of her question. "Sorry… it's just that… well, you took me by surprise."

Ariel shrugged her shoulders, looking down at the floor with a sombre expression. "It's alright. The story just reminded me, that's all. That they all have a missing sister..." _Me. I wonder how they are…do they miss me? Are they worried?  
_

"They? How many do you have?" Belle's voice had grown very soft, as had her facial expression—one that had appeared slightly startled by Ariel's sudden confession.

"Hmmm?" Ariel lifted her gaze to meet Belle's. "Oh, six. And I'm the youngest."

Belle's expression changed again, her eyes growing wide, her mouth gaping a little—she was obviously stunned.

"You look surprised. Don't you believe me?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course I do… Forgive me but it's just a little difficult for me to imagine, seeing how I am an only child."

Ariel smiled a little. "An only child, huh? Gosh, you have no idea how many times I wished to be an only child when I was younger!"

Belle smiled back. "With six older sisters? I don't blame you! Must've been a nightmare at times."

Ariel laughed gently, before continuing: "It wasn't all bad, though… Still, I always felt like the odd one out… Of course, I knew I couldn't tell any of them knew my… secret…" She glanced down at the floor again. "I knew none of them would understand…"

Closing her book with her finger still inside to mark the current page that she was reading from, Belle grew puzzled. "Secret?"

"My secret grotto… of human treasures. It was forbidden for us to even collect human items, let alone to surface and seek them out, perhaps talk to them…" Ariel appeared quite troubled by her own words, the sadness returning to her eyes.

Belle was insatiably curious now; she had previously tried to stop herself from asking questions that Ariel might find insensitive, or personal, but at this moment she could not help but query: "How... so how did you become a human?"

Ariel glared up at her for a moment. Her expression soon softened, however. After all, she could not blame Belle for being naturally inquisitive—she knew nothing of how Ariel was treated when she first encountered humans, despite Belle questioning her on the matter previously, or that the magical spell which had transformed her was now essentially a death sentence. Now lying on her stomach with her legs occasionally kicking at thin air, Ariel instead opted to look over her shoulder at those legs, with an expression that Belle read as regret.

"It's... a long story. Can we leave it at that? I... I don't really feel comfortable talking about it... not now."

Belle's eyes fell, focusing on her book once more. "OK. I... understand. Sorry.."

"Don't be sorry," Ariel sighed, still gazing at her legs. After a brief silence, she then quietly continued: "Hmmm, that's why this is so nice... sitting here, listening to this story… It helps me forget—if only for a little while."

"Forget?" Belle repeated very softly, obviously aware that this was not an easy topic for Ariel to discuss. She was still keenly curious, but didn't wish to upset Ariel again—so she resolved to say as little as possible.

Ariel did decide to look up at Belle this time—though she couldn't find the motivation to smile. "Everything… what I really am, what has happened, and… why did I have to be so different? Compared to my sisters—compared to everyone! I'm so stupid." With a huff, she averted her eyes once more, humiliated.

Placing her book down on her lap, Belle thought for a moment. Than she began, in a comforting tone: "I think we just found out another thing we have in common. Apart from our love for literature…"

Ariel blinked at her, surprised. "What do you mean? _You're_ not stupid."

Managing a small smile, Belle quietly responded: "Just a stupid-know-it-all?" She then searched for the right words to explain what she had meant by the previous comment. In truth, this was not the easiest subject for _her_ to talk about. "I live in a small town—a village, really—and the other townsfolk all think that I'm different, or strange. But like you, I was merely being true to myself."

"You? Strange?" Ariel's voice was tinged with disbelief.

"Yeah, I know. Me!" Belle smiled at herself, semi-sarcastic. "The very idea. It's normal to faint at the sight of books… But the truth is, people just don't like what they don't understand." This time, Ariel managed a smile. She could appreciate the truth in Belle's words. "So I know how it feels to be 'different', like no one understands you… to feel like a fish out of water… Erm, I'm sorry, that just slipped out!"

Ariel's smile broadened—somehow, she did actually find that comment amusing; or perhaps it was Belle's instant embarrassment at her own comment that Ariel found so amusing.

"Wow, that was really bad. Please kill me," Belle at last continued, grinning sheepishly, face flushed with red. "Well… anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I know how… lonely… it can be… how isolating." Slightly flustered, she let out a heavy sigh. Ariel cast her eyes downward again, though faint remnants of a smile could still be seen upon her face.

Clearing her throat, Belle opened up her book once more, intending to resume the story of 'The Wind Waker'. Finding her place on the particular page that she had previously read up to, Belle began the tale once more.

"_Standing upon the railing of the ship's stern, Link could just make out his grandmother in the distance. He waved a bittersweet goodbye, worrying about leaving the ageing woman alone—but certainly, he knew she would want him to rescue his beloved sister._"

Belle then closed the book again, saying with a sigh: "Well that's the end of the first chapter. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. And I should really check up on Cheeky, see what mischief he's gotten himself into…"

Ariel seemed disappointed as she stood up and stretched—she had been enjoying the escapism. "Oh. That seemed to go really quickly."

"Yeah," Belle agreed, "time really flies when you repeatedly humiliate yourself." At last, her face had almost returned to its normal hue.

Placing a hand to her chin, Ariel laughed. "I wouldn't know."

"Hmmm…" Belle averted her gaze as she appeared to ponder. "I don't suppose you'd like to walk into that wall over there? You know… just to make me feel better."

Ariel shrugged jovially. "Maybe next time."

Belle's eyes glimmered at those words. "_Next time?_"

"Well I… it's just that…" Ariel began to stutter, now being the one to shyly avert her gaze, "do you… I don't suppose you'd like to do this again tomorrow? I mean, I like the story so far, and…"

"Of course," Belle answered immediately, growing a smile. Satisfied, Ariel grew a smile also.

As they exited the library together, Ariel continued: "By the way, most of the wardrobes here are full of clothes. I won't need them all... I'm sure there'll be some dresses that fit you… anyway, just help yourself to whatever you want."

"Thanks, I will." Belle smiled warmly at her. Then, after thinking in silence for a moment, she began to Ariel: "Say, Ariel… I was wondering…"

"Yes?" Ariel looked up as she dawdled alongside Belle.

"Well, it's just that… first, you gave me the library…"

"Yes. I remember. You fainted," Ariel giggled.

"And now you're saying I can help myself to any clothes that I'd like… Would I be right in assuming that you no longer want me to leave?"

Ariel thought about the question only for a brief moment. "No, I guess not," she then answered, her expression both a slight frown and a smile at the same time.

Belle couldn't help but beam, mostly to herself. "Hmmm, that's what I thought."


	10. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

**"Deepening"**

"Where do you think she could be?" Dash called out to Tip, who was just ahead of him, as he lumbered along one of the castle's many hallways. "We've looked everywhere! Maybe… Do you think she could be outside?"

Inspired by these words, Tip then hopped up onto a nearby windowsill to inspect the outdoors. After a quick wipe of his fin cleared up some of the fog that had settled upon the glass, Tip then spotted the one they were searching for: Ariel.

"Hey, big boy! Here she is."

Another bright, clear morning had helped in lifting the spirits of everyone on this particular day.

"Wow! You know, she hasn't really gone outside that much since we've been here."

"I know," Tip replied, his gaze still focused on their princess.

"Well… now we just have to find Belle." After Dash said those words to the penguin still stationed upon the windowsill, said penguin then leapt off in a flash, and began scurrying down the corridor once more, the hefty Dash lagging behind somewhat.

"Belle is a nice human. I thought so from the time we first met her," Dash projected his voice forward, so Tip could hear.

"Nice _enough_," Tip chuckled over his shoulder, back toward the walrus, "and weird."

It was not long before they encountered Belle, herself strolling through the castle, her intended destination nowhere in particular. She was in a slight daze, humming to herself and not paying much attention to her surroundings. Because of this, and also due to the fact that Tip was not watching where he was going, the rushing penguin soon smacked face first into Belle's shins.

"Huh?" Belle snapped out of her trance-like state to greet the clumsy penguin. "Oh, bonjour Tip. Didn't bend your beak, did you?" She smiled at him, trying not to laugh.

"Heh heh. Very funny." Tip then became conscious of his beak, smoothing his fins over it.

Dash, at last, caught up. "Hello, Belle. Tip, why don't you watch where you're going?"

"She was in my blind spot!" Tip lied, obviously a little embarrassed.

"Isn't it a lovely day?" Dash then continued to Belle.

"Good morning, Dash. Yes, it is…" She turned her head slightly, gazing dreamily out of a nearby window.

"Perfect morning for a walk outside," Tip then added, beginning to smile up at the human. Belle couldn't help but grow a little suspicious; Dash had always been polite, but Tip? _Only several days ago he had threatened to thrash me with his fins_!

However, at this time, Belle chose to ignore her suspicions. Instead, she just shrugged in a manner that was neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Maybe you could go ice-skating, or something. I hear humans do stuff like that all the time," persisted Tip. "Personally I prefer tobogganing, but hey, each to their own…"

Dash however, was less subtle. "You know, I don't think Ariel has ever been ice-skating."

Belle thought for a moment. She decided that this was in fact a great idea, and with the help of Tip and Dash, went in search for ice-skates.

Before too long, in one of the castle's utility rooms, they found just what they were looking for. The skates were a little rusted and appeared to not have been used in years, but apart from that, they were fine.

"I haven't been ice-skating in ages," Belle told Tip and Dash, excitement evident in her voice, as she opened a door of the utility room that led outside. "It's so much fun, I'm sure Ariel will like it!"

Ariel, too, was in good spirits this morning, and had decided to go for a walk on her own, inspecting the castle's grounds far more closely than she had ever done. She was in view of Belle, not too far away, carefully navigating her way across a frozen pond.

Belle rushed out to greet her, skates in hand, calling out: "Good morning!"

Distracted, Ariel lost her footing on the slippery ice and fell onto her rear with a thud. "Ouch!" She turned her head to notice that Belle, Tip and Dash had all witnessed her fall, before placing one hand on her now-blushing face and muttering to herself: "Oh... oh, embarrassing."

Belle jogged over, a little concerned. "Ariel, are you alright? Ha, and I thought I was the Queen of Clumsiness!" When she saw that Ariel was indeed unhurt, she playfully added: "Well, that should contribute towards me feeling better for fainting the other day."

Gingerly, Ariel began to rise off the frozen water and onto her feet again. Kindly, Belle took one of her hands and gently pulled her up. Once she was upright again, Ariel said: "Thanks. That fall hurt my…" Rubbing her behind, Ariel suddenly became incredibly self-conscious. "Ummm, my pride."

"As long as that's all that's hurt," Belle laughed, tapping the ice with her foot to test its sturdiness. "But… this _is_ a perfect day for skating," she then added, holding up a pair of skates for Ariel, who simply stared at them, unsure.

Still, she politely accepted them, then watched as Belle sat down on a nearby ice-covered bench and affixed her own skates, attaching them to the work boots which were her standard choice of footwear.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ariel noticed Tip and Dash still standing in the doorway of the utility room exit. Fixing her gaze on them completely, she noted that they were both smiling expectantly. _What's up with them_?

Ariel turned back to Belle, who was now standing on the ice, skates attached, balancing perfectly. "Come on," Belle encouraged, outstretching a hand. "It's easier than it looks."

"Sure it is," an unconvinced Ariel retaliated. With a sigh and a slight shrug of her shoulders, she then sat down on the bench to affix her own pair of skates. Before long, she had joined Belle on the ice, stumbling and swaying in an attempt to keep her balance.

After one near fall, she asked Belle, who was zooming gracefully around nearby, one could almost say showing off: "Whoa! Little help?"

Belle skidded to a stop. She smiled at Ariel, before skating over and taking her hand. "I thought you said you were the Queen of Clumsiness," Ariel quipped as Belle came over. "You sure don't look like it at the moment."

"My clumsiness is always random and unexpected," Belle laughed. "I could still fall on my face yet."

"That would certainly make me feel better, after my fall a couple of moments ago," Ariel joked.

"You still owe me for my embarrassing moments in the library a couple of days ago," Belle responded with her own joke. "You promised me you'd walk into a library wall."

Ariel placed her free hand on her hip, although her smile was becoming wider. "I _didn't _promise."

"You should have."

Ariel was stifling giggles now. "Shut up."

"OK… Anyway, why don't you try like this?" Belle asked, referring to the art of ice-skating. "Count along with me."

Belle then proceeded to skate very slowly, along a straight line, saying: "One, two, three. One, two, three. Hey, it's just like a waltz."

"A what?" Ariel asked as she skated parallel, grasping tightly onto Belle's hand.

"Oh, it's a type of dance," Belle began to explain. "A waltz is distinctive because it is written in three-four time, as opposed to the usual four-four, or march, time."

"Uh-huh," Ariel reacted with some confidence, pretending to understand. "Of course."

After a short time, Belle then said: "You see, it's easy. Once you know how, anyway."

Then, without warning, she let go of Ariel's hand, giving her a little push as she did so.

"No, wait! I… WHOA!"

Ariel slid out in front, unbalanced at first, teetering and wobbling. Then, she lifted her arms out to her sides so they were perfectly straight, regaining her balance, as she slowly counted in her head: _One, two, three… One, two, three…_

To her own amazement, Ariel began to glide smoothly over the ice, almost effortlessly. Belle soon zipped in front of her, cleverly skating backwards, facing Ariel.

Satisfied with herself, Ariel smiled a smile at Belle that said: _Hey, I'm doing it by myself._

Impressed by Ariel's quick learning curve, and enjoying herself immensely, Belle smiled back rather widely, before taking Ariel's hand once more and spinning them both around in a circle, so they swapped positions, Ariel now the one skating backwards.

With a rush of excitement, Ariel laughed lightly, unaware of how quickly they were zooming toward a nearby bank of snow.

"You're trying to make me fall over!"

"Who, me? Never."

Still smiling at Ariel, Belle failed to notice the rapidly approaching snow bank also, so it was quite a shock for both of them when Ariel suddenly tripped and tumbled backwards, dragging Belle down with her.

The two of them crashed onto the snow almost comically, Belle half-landing on top of Ariel. They couldn't help but burst out into laughter, despite the fact they may have been experiencing some minor pain from the fall.

Belle abruptly stopped laughing however, once she opened her eyes and realised just how close her face was to Ariel's—so close, in fact, their lips were almost touching.

Hastily rolling off and sitting up alongside Ariel in the snow, Belle could feel her face becoming flushed.

Catching her breath, Ariel also sat up. "Well, there's the random clumsiness," she said with a giggle, dusting the powdery snow off her clothes. "It wasn't enough to fall by yourself, oh no… you had to take me down with you."

"Yeah," Belle agreed, staring straight ahead. "Random clumsiness. I tried to warn you."

Forcing herself out of her coy state, Belle then felt the snow immediately around her, to estimate its depth. With a sudden movement that surprised Ariel, Belle then flopped onto her back and began to move her arms up and down and her legs inward and outward.

Ariel stared at her, dumbfounded, as she stood up to dust the rest of the snow remnants off. Soon, Belle stood also, and pointed to the imprint she had left behind in the snow. "It's a Christmas angel."

Ariel stroked her chin and looked at the shape, confused. She had never heard of Christmas, or angels, before.

Realising this, Belle made a dismissive hand gesture. "Never mind. I'm an atheist, anyway."

Of course, this statement failed to help Ariel understand; in fact, never having heard the word 'atheist' either, it simply confused her more.

"You're a what, now?" Was all she said, still trying to comprehend the snow angel.

"It doesn't matter," Belle grew a smile as she spoke. "Do you feel like the next installment of 'The Wind Waker'?"

At this, Ariel's eyes lit up. She turned to Belle and nodded, before awkwardly attempting to remove her skates whilst still standing. Belle managed to remove hers first, before sprinting off cheekily.

"Last one there is the undisputed Queen of Clumsiness!" Belle called out behind her, laughing, confident with her head start.

"Hey, no fair! Wait up!" Ariel shouted back, though she couldn't help but giggle as she hobbled in the inches-deep snow with one skate still attached, determined to catch up to Belle.

* * *

Another bright, sun-filled but brisk morning, Ariel and Belle sat at small dining table together, eating a varied breakfast that Belle had prepared. Cheeky sat on the floor beside Belle's feet, staring wistfully up at his master, pleading for a treat. She couldn't help but unintentionally ignore her cat; her mind was too distracted, filled with thoughts of the young woman sitting opposite.

As Belle absent-mindedly buttered one of the several pancakes that adorned her plate, pancakes being one of her favourite types of breakfast food, Ariel gazed at her and smiled, yet to touch her own pancakes. Once Belle had begun eating, cleanly and quite properly with both knife and fork, Ariel's eyes returned to her own plate.

Instead of registering the pronged utensil beside her plate as a fork however, Ariel thought of it as a dingelhopper, as Scuttle had once explained it as. Not a tool with which you eat food, but a hair-combing device.

Excited, Ariel plucked the dingelhopper from upon the table and began to comb her thick auburn locks with it.

Watching from nearby, Tip and Dash looked at each other, embarrassed for Ariel, hoping Belle did not find her behavior too bizarre.

When next she looked at Belle, still combing away, Ariel was surprised to see Belle staring at her, with a single raised eyebrow, a completely baffled look upon her face.

Ashamed, Ariel placed the dingelhopper back down beside her plate and looked away—toward Tip and Dash. Meeting Ariel's gaze, Tip then mimed using the utensil for eating purposes, encouraging his princess to try again.

With a sigh, she picked up the fork and dug it into a pancake. _Silly Scuttle_.

Half-watching Ariel whilst continuing to eat her own breakfast, Belle began to smile to herself.

Awkwardly, Ariel held the pancake too far away from her mouth, and soon it dislodged from the fork and spilled onto the floor. With another sigh, she slapped her face with her free hand, half out of frustration, half out of humiliation.

Unable to control himself, Tip chortled. Dash glared at him fiercely, but the penguin merely shrugged. "What? It's funny."

Knife and fork still in hands, Belle glanced down at her half-eaten pancakes. Then, she looked back up, waiting for Ariel's gaze to meet hers. When it did, Belle smiled and dropped the cutlery down. She then seized the nearest pancake with her hands and began eating again, in a manner less dignified than before. "It tastes better when you eat it like this anyway."

With an appreciative smile, Ariel then proceeded to do the same—and enjoyed herself while doing so.

That day passed pleasantly for Ariel and Belle, as all days tended to now.

Belle had learned that, due to her living most of her life as a mermaid, there were many things that Ariel didn't understand, or hadn't experienced.

On a different day to that one that had witnessed Ariel's first encounter with the scrumptious food known as pancakes, Belle was teaching Ariel yet another first-time experience—how to build a snowman.

The mid-afternoon sun shone down on them as Ariel patted the snow that was meant to be her creations' head.

"You know, it doesn't really look like a man. Maybe I'm just not doing it right," Ariel wondered as she stared at the lumpy white snow sculpture.

"Its fine," Belle laughed as she smoothed down her own snowman. "That's how it's supposed to look."

"Are you sure?" Ariel asked as she took a step back. Shaking her head, she added: "Funny-looking man."

Belle smiled at her fondly. Returning to her own creation, she then grabbed a nearby twig from upon the snowy ground, and shoved it into the snowman's side, thus giving the snowman an arm.

"Ta-da!" She presented as she turned back to Ariel, but Ariel was looking away, toward a gathering flock of small birds.

"What are they?" Ariel asked as she began to slowly walk over to them. "They're so cute."

They were Swablus, relatively docile and human-friendly by nature. Ariel was intrigued by their fluffy, cottony wings. She crouched down and cautiously approached the chirping birds, outstretching a gentle hand.

As Belle quietly watched, she felt her mind—and her heart—begin to race. She was not eager to have moments lost in thought as she currently was, for those thoughts always eventuated to the same realisation, a realisation that no amount of meagre distractions such as snow-man building or Swablu watching could divert from forever. _I've never felt this way about anyone before_. _She's so sweet, so innocent… and so spirited. I can't believe how much I care for her_.

Shaking herself, more mentally than physically, Belle tried to focus on the current Swablu scenario, not wanting to appear detached. _Darn it_.

Suddenly noticing how close Ariel was to the birds, Belle called out: "Ariel, be careful, or they'll…"

With a flutter of wings, the flock dispersed, frightened by the approaching Ariel, who could now only hold out her warmly-gloved hand sheepishly. "Oops," she said, completely still in her rigid outstretched hand pose.

Belle giggled and walked over. Crouching down beside Ariel, she said: "Birds frighten easily. Instead of going to them, let them come to you." She placed a hand on Ariel's arm as a token of affection, before lifting her other hand in the air and bending her index finger, creating a perch for a Swablu to land on. With a cheery whistle, Belle invited any cotton-winged would-be visitors over.

Soon, a Swablu floated down and landed deftly upon the finger. With an amazed smile, Belle slowly moved her bird-bearing hand toward Ariel, who realised she must make the same perch with her own finger. Sure enough, the Swablu fluttered onto Ariel's finger, and she was delighted. She smiled broadly at the adorable Swablu, then at Belle, whose hand was still resting upon Ariel's arm.

Realising that she had been gazing at Ariel for quite a long moment, Belle sharply turned away, before standing up and beginning to walk toward one of the garden's standout features, a water fountain. _Stop staring at her, idiot_.

Ariel gradually stood upright also, not wanting the Swablu to be frightened off. Now trusting Ariel however, the Swablu instead hopped onto her shoulder, and Ariel outstretched both of her arms to give the bird more room to explore.

Her gaze then returning to Belle, who had now outstretched a finger again in hope another Swablu would land, Ariel became lost in her own thoughts, but more peacefully so than Belle.

_I thought that all humans were heartless and cruel… but I don't think so anymore. Belle is caring, kind, thoughtful and brave. She's exactly the type of human I wished to find, to prove my father's theories wrong…_

So preoccupied by these thoughts was Ariel, that she failed to notice more Swablus landing upon her. One even perched upon her head, giving the appearance that she was wearing a fluffy blue and white hat.

Belle was soon overjoyed when another Swablu made acquaintance with her, and she looked back toward Ariel with a proud smile, only to discover that Ariel was in fact now staring at her.

Ariel smiled sweetly, and Belle grew coy, blushing a little. After the Swablu fluttered off, Belle ducked behind the nearby water fountain, hidden from Ariel's vision by the tall statue that was in the centre of the ice-covered concrete feature.

Wishing to compose herself, Belle remained there for a long moment, her mind still racing. She was confused, alarmed… but not so much by her feelings, but rather from her own reaction toward those feelings. _What is wrong with me? Why am I so worried? _

Belle was almost disgusted with herself. Had she become like them—the other villagers? _Unfortunately, if you live in a town long enough it has to affect you somehow_…

Fiddling with a wayward piece of hair absent-mindedly, Belle was hit by a sudden, discerning thought: _You're not IN town, Belle_. _It's just the two of you here… well, you're the only two humans, anyway_...

_Besides, it doesn't matter how much I could try to deny my feelings… I know there's something about her that I simply can't resist_.

With confidence and composure returning as she peered back from around the water fountain's statue, Belle giggled to herself when she saw the amount of birds that had decided to land upon Ariel.

Ariel looked somewhat like a scarecrow, her arms stretched out wide as she stood perfectly still. Swablus hopped along her arms and shoulders, chirping merrily. Eyes darting every which way, Ariel was unsure about what to do—if, indeed, she should do anything, apart from remain as statue-like as possible.

"Ummm… help?" Ariel squeaked once she noticed Belle re-appear in the distance.

"Make some cat-like sounds," Belle laughed. "Where's Cheeky when you really need him, huh?"

Suddenly and without warning, the birds all departed in a flurry, Ariel cowering a little due to the fluttering noises and the tiny, but sharp, bird talons.

Once she had regained her poise, she intended to meet Belle's gaze again, this time with a silly grin, but that grin was met with an incredibly accurate snowball.

Having swept the snow from her eyes, Ariel could then see a mischievous Belle laughing at her.

Ariel smiled a sneaky smile, determined to get her own back. "You are so gonna get it!" She declared confidently. But as she hoisted her snowball high into the air, preparing to hurl it, she was hit in the face—again.

"That's two out of two," she heard Belle say as she again swept snow from her eyes.

"Unfair!"

Scooping up a handful of snow as she lunged forward, Ariel intended to ambush Belle by sneaking around the other side of the fountain. But when she reached the far side, Belle was already sliding across the frozen water of the fountain, another snowball in hand.

As Ariel took the third snowball square in the face, Belle laughed and said: "That's three for three."

This time, Ariel swept the snow from her eyes just in time to see Belle trip backwards over the edge of the fountain that she was sliding across, flip a quick somersault in the air, and crash onto the snow face first.

Despite concerns that Belle could be injured, Ariel couldn't help but break into hysterical laughter. "Who's the Queen of Clumsiness now, huh?" She quipped, leaning against the fountain.

Belle, indeed fine, lifted her snow covered face to rest in her hands. Through her own bursts of giggles, she said to Ariel: "Oh, shut up. I meant to do that."

* * *

"I don't believe it, mon," Sebastian began, having watched the frenzied frolic from high above within the castle, perched upon a windowsill. "They're already spending most of their time together."

"Told you we wouldn't have to do much," Dash grinned, also watching. Tip and Scuttle were there also, pressed against the glass, staring in awe.

"It is just so strange," Sebastian began again, shaking his head a little; but, also, couldn't help but smile a tiny flicker of a smile.

Retreating from the glass, Tip placed his fins on his hips. "Yep, there's definitely something going on between those two," he sighed, also unable to keep from smiling.

"What? What's goin' on?" Scuttle asked, somewhat stupidly. "All I see is two girls hurlin' snowballs at each other."

"Geez mon you are hopeless!" Sebastian snapped at the seagull. "I mean, c'mon! This _was_ _your_ idea!"

"It… was? The snowball fight?" Scuttle stared at the crab vacantly.

Simultaneously, Sebastian, Tip and Dash all rolled their eyes in annoyed frustration.

"Alright, alright," Sebastian began to Scuttle again, clamping the seagull's beak shut with his pincer so that he would have the bird's undivided attention. "I'll explain it to you. Now please, I need you to pay _very close attention_…"

As the four sea creatures had observed, Ariel and Belle were now spending nearly every moment together. They ate together, read together, played together in the snow, and spent many nights just talking by the warm glow of the fireplace. Belle would explain about how she wished to become a concert violinist, about how she loved the literary world, or recite humorous anecdotes of the mischief that Cheeky would cause in his kitten-hood. Ariel would recall her days as a mermaid, the shipwrecks she'd explore, the idiosyncrasies of her sisters, and how she loved to paint—she even exhibited her paintings to Belle officially, although Belle noticed that Ariel went into little detail regarding the portrait of the powerful looking merman.

During their readings of 'The Wind Waker', Ariel would sketch what she believed the characters to look like, and often she would sketch Belle.

She grew more relaxed with Cheeky too, cuddling him whenever the opportunity arose, Cheeky's purr then drowning out Belle's reading if they happened to be situated in the library at the time.

The four sea friends all noticed a gradual, positive change in their princess—she was becoming more and more like the young mermaid she once was; a happy-go-lucky, cheerful and friendly girl.

And they knew why she was changing, too.

However, they were unsure if Ariel actually realised why herself… or if, in fact, she realised how much her attitude towards life had changed recently.

Dash volunteered to speak with Ariel regarding the matter, meeting her one night in the princess' west wing bedroom. She was sitting at her easel, sketching, when the walrus thundered in.

"Good evening, Ariel," he greeted politely with a wide, tusky grin.

"Hi Dash!" She answered cheerfully, looking up from her artwork momentarily. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh nothing… I just wanted to talk…"

His smile becoming nervous, he lumbered over, immediately noticing what Ariel was drawing; yet another Belle portrait.

"Is everything OK?" Ariel asked, her voice and expression tinged with concern.

"Uh yeah…" he gazed at the sketch almost vacantly before suddenly blurting out: "Isn't Belle nice?"

Ariel narrowed her eyes playfully. "Nice?"

"Well, you know… this picture is nice," he regarded the sketch with a raised flipper, "and Belle is really nice, and… it's great that everything is so… nice."

"Uh huh." Ariel eyed him with growing suspicion. "Dash… do you have a crush on Belle?"

"WHAT?" The walrus was flabbergasted. "No! I just meant… you seem to be happy, like your old self, and it's only since Belle came here that…"

Ariel raised a hand to stem the flow of rapid words. "Woah, easy. I was just kidding!"

Dash breathed a sigh of relief, before noticing that Ariel appeared to grow pensive, as if considering his words.

Her eyes cast towards the floor, she began quietly: "I know… things have been so good lately. I thought I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be happy… to laugh..."

Dash nodded knowingly, growing a sincere smile. Ariel began to twiddle her fingers, as she often did when she was nervous, her eyes still looking downward. "I… I really like her, Dash."

"I know."

"I… what? You _do_?"

"Yes. We all do… me, Tip, Sebastian and Scuttle."

Ariel sighed. "Well thanks for telling me!"

Dash stifled a chuckle. "Sorry, princess."

Considerably more relaxed now, Ariel folded her arms over her lap as she leaned forward in her chair. "Well… what am I going to do? I want to tell her, but… how?"

Dash pointed to the work-in-progress portrait again. "If you keep drawing these, I think she'll soon realise." After a brief pause he then added: "Maybe you could give her one… as a gift or something…"

Ariel broke into a smile and rolled her eyes. "Dash, why would she want a picture of herself?"

"Ummm…" the walrus pondered for a while, before finally conceding, "OK, maybe not."

Ariel knew it was not something she wished to express with a mere token gift. She felt compelled to simply tell Belle the truth, but not in a style lacking such class as to blurt it out in the midst of an ordinary conversation. _No, it has to be a special, magical, romantic moment that both of us will remember always_…

As a mermaid, Ariel did not hold the reservations toward her growing romantic affection for a member of the same gender as Belle did. Little did Belle know, but attitudes regarding such conventions were very different under the sea. Certainly more liberal. If anything, had Ariel dared to imagine what her father might think, not taking into account her humanity, he would be more concerned at the fact that Belle was not of the status of anything resembling royalty.

Suddenly remembering something else he wished to say, Dash interrupted Ariel's train of thought. "Oh, Sebastian suggested you should make a card. A really big one."

Ariel placed her hand upon her brow in mock exasperation. "Oh no, not the card idea again."

"I told him you wouldn't like it."

"And, dare I ask, what did Tip suggest?"

Dash averted his gaze, slightly worried. "Ummm… to lock Belle in the dungeons until she realises that you like her… and that she likes you too…"

Ariel could only laugh at the ridiculous suggestion courtesy of Tip, at least momentarily. Very soon however, her eyes grew wide, her expression serious. _Does she? Could she possibly… feel the same way? _

"I have to tell her," Ariel said aloud, suddenly standing up. "Soon. Or it's gonna drive me crazy." She began to pace, placing a hand upon her chin, Dash watching in silence as Ariel brainstormed, vocalising her ideas. "Over dinner, maybe? But no, not just a normal dinner, that's not special enough… a… formal dinner, maybe? We can both dress up, and… but won't she get suspicious? Asking her to a formal dinner for no particular reason? Well I can't tell her the reason beforehand, obviously…"

"Princess," Dash interrupted, growing a smile, "I think a formal dinner is a great idea."

"You do?" Ariel sounded uncertain. "But she'll have to cook, we all know I can't cook to save myself, won't she wonder 'What is going on? Invites me to a formal dinner that I have to cook!' and…"

"Princess," Dash interjected again, "I'm sure she won't mind. She likes to cook for you! Just ask her, OK?"

With that, Dash gave a confident grin, before leaving Ariel to pace and panic some more. He was satisfied now, both in the idea and the likelihood of success, and he wished to tell his fellow sea creatures as soon as possible. Ecstatic that their princess' life could still be saved, they would only be too eager to help with any preparations.

Ariel stared after the walrus as he left, her mind still frenetic. _'Just ask her, OK?' Oh, sure. Because asking her is the easy part_…

It was to be during the final session of 'The Wind Waker', when they were snuggled up very closely near the library's fireplace, that Ariel had found the courage she needed to finally suggest the formal dinner.

"… _Aryll was safe, as everyone was now that the great King of Evil, Ganondorf, had been destroyed forever. But Link still found the need to venture out into the great open sea. There was so much to explore, to do, so many people to meet, that he knew he would never be satisfied with an uneventful existence on Outset Island. Waving goodbye to his sister, and his grandmother too, Link then set sail from upon his small boat, The King of Red Lions. Alongside him, the friendly pirates' ship sailed, all the pirates with which Link was now very well acquainted. Glancing behind him toward his island home one last time, Link then sailed off into the yonder horizon, knowing not when he would return... The end_."

Belle closed the book and sighed, somewhat sadly, now the story had ended.

"What an amazing story," Ariel said, staring into the dancing flames of the fireplace as she leaned affectionately into the older woman.

"I know…" Belle sighed again, stroking Cheeky, who was curled up asleep beside her, opposite to Ariel. "But, as they, say. All good things must come to an end."

Ariel grew a sly smile. "Unless, of course, you read it again."

"I think that you should read it this time then," Belle smirked, passing the book to Ariel.

"Well, alright," Ariel answered, quite confident in her own reading abilities.

As Ariel placed the book upon the floor in front of her, Cheeky awoke with impeccable timing. After a stretch and a yawn, he strolled over, and flopped right on the book's opened pages, purring for Ariel.

Belle slapped her forehead. "Geez, Cheeky! What have I told you about lying on something that someone is trying to read?"

Ariel could only giggle. "It's alright. Maybe this is his way of telling us he doesn't want to hear this particular story again. There are plenty of other books in the library, after all."

"But he slept through all the important parts anyway! I'm pretty sure the only story he does like is 'Puss in Boots'." Belle laughed, shaking her head slightly at her cat. Cheeky just stayed sprawled out upon the book, continuing to purr.

Ariel gave him an affectionate pat. "Who's a fluffy little book critic, then?" She cooed, Cheeky only happy to lap up the attention.

"Stop it, you'll only encourage him," Belle laughed softly, gazing fondly at both her cat and Ariel.

Feeling her nerves grow, Ariel ceased to pat Cheeky. After a brief silence, she began very quietly: "Belle, I'd like to ask you something."

"Hmmm?" Belle looked directly at Ariel, who was shyly averting her gaze.

Before Ariel had a chance to continue however, she was interrupted by Cheeky's distinctive squeaky miaow: "Mieh?"

"See what I mean?" Belle laughed again. "He doesn't wish for you to stop patting him yet. He's got you wrapped around his paw."

Ariel began to stroke Cheeky again. "I don't mind. He's such a sweetie."

"He's not the only one," Belle added, almost in a whisper. Ariel glanced up, not hearing Belle properly.

"Pardon?"

"Erm, I said, uhhh…" Belle cleared her throat and focused her gaze upon the fire. "What did you want to ask me?"

Ariel looked back down at the loudly purring Cheeky. "Oh, I, uhhh…" She gritted her teeth, struggling to say the words. "I… I don't suppose you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" She at last rushed out, not looking back up yet.

"Huh?" Belle was surprised. "But, Ariel, we… we have dinner together every night."

At last Ariel glanced up, and gazed into Belle's eyes. "I meant, uh… a formal dinner. Like a special celebration, you know?"

"Oh… a celebration of what?" Belle asked with intrigue.

Ariel had been dreading a question like this. "Ummm…" She searched her mind for an answer that was both meaningful and… well, not exactly truthful. "Snow! A special celebration of snow. Because I've never seen it before this year, and it's so much fun…" _Snow? SNOW? Geez, Ariel. How lame_.

Belle grew a coy smile before answering: "You think you have to worry about asking me? I'd love to."

Ariel became excited, growing a wide smile. "Really?"

"Of course. I like snow, too… and we can celebrate snow… together."

_Together._

There was something about the tone in Belle's voice as she said that wonderful, single word, that sent tingles down Ariel's spine and made her heart race. She knew, somehow, that Belle understood this special dinner was not a tribute to snow at all.

Ariel stood up, intending to leave, suddenly becoming very nervous. "Ummm, OK then. That's good, it's really… good. I think we should schedule it to start at eight o' clock tomorrow night, OK? Good… did I say good already?"

"Yes, a couple of times," Belle answered with a smile, still seated by the fireplace.

"OK, good… I mean, erm, great! So I'll see you tomorrow then, we can discuss it more… And meet later in the grand dining hall, tomorrow night at eight?" Ariel turned to exit the library, her expression an anxious smile.

"OK," Belle told her, in a voice full of sincere warmth and her own nervous anticipation. "I can't wait."


	11. Chapter 10

This chapter is dedicated to the influence the wonderful film "Titanic" had in my creating of this couple. Weird, huh. There are a few little references, anyway. And no, Sebastian is not singing "Kiss the Girl". That would be too confusing ;P To see his song, go to "Extra Bit".

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

**"Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave"**

Ariel stood in front of the full length mirror, checking herself over for the umpteenth time. "I'm starting to think this wasn't such a good idea," she muttered nervously, clumsily gathering up a portion of her hair to fasten with a clip. "I'm not so sure I can go through with this."

"Sure you can," Tip, who was standing on a nearby table, encouraged her. "It'll be a piece of coral."

"Oh, really?" Ariel asked in a skeptical tone, now frantically searching for the clip that matched the one she had just pinned hair with.

"Sure," Tip continued. "After the dinner, with its elegant table flanked by romantic candlelight, you say: 'Crazy Human Girl, I think you're swell.'"

Ariel paused for a brief moment to stare at the penguin. Finally she joked, through a slightly quaky voice tinged with nervousness: "I don't think Belle will appreciate it if I call her 'Crazy Human Girl'."

"Well its better than 'stupid know-it-all human," Tip smirked back at her, placing a fin on his chin in a relaxed manner.

Blushing mildly, Ariel shot a silly grin at him. "Shut up. That was a couple of weeks ago. I'm sure she's forgotten all about it."

Tip shrugged whilst continuing to smirk, and Ariel turned away from him, ready to begin a frantic search for the next accessory. In an instant flash, Tip suddenly remembered that there was something else he wished to say.

"Oh yeah, Sebastian has written a song especially for the occasion."

Ariel froze in her tracks. "He has? Oh no…" This only stirred her nerves more so. _I know he was once a great court composer, but he could've chosen a better time to make a musical comeback_… With a sigh, she began to fiddle with her hair once more, returning her gaze to the mirror.

"Chill, princess," Tip began calmly. "Crazy Human Girl… erm, I mean Crazy Belle Girl… Grrr! No, I mean Crazy Human Belle… Oh geez. _Belle_… likes you. She wouldn't have stayed here this long if she didn't. I don't think she's still here because of the dramatic balcony views, or the crappy statues in the garden."

"It doesn't mean that she _loves_ me," Ariel stated simply, her voice and expression becoming cheerless and full of doubt.

"Ooooo, the L word," Tip playfully teased, hoping a flippant comment would help Ariel lighten up. But Ariel's anxious expression relaxed none, so Tip continued with more seriousness: "That's why you gotta tell her how you feel, 'cos it gives her the opportunity to say something in return, and you'll know for sure."

"I guess," Ariel half-heartedly agreed, turning back to face Tip. After letting out a heavy sigh, she turned back toward the mirror and caught glimpse of herself. With a groan, she became unsure again. "No… I… I can't." She cast her eyes downward, losing all confidence. "I don't believe I actually thought I could do this! My stomach is tying itself in knots, how am I supposed to even eat dinner? I'm so dumb."

Despite her negative opinions of herself, Ariel did, in truth, look stunning. She wore a full length sky blue dress, which had no sleeves, revealing her dainty shoulders. The dress glittered with hundreds of sparkles whenever the light directly caught it, and she had perfectly fitting three quarter gloves to match. Not to mention a pair of drop diamond earrings that sparkled even more spectacularly than her shimmering gown. The hue of her expressive sapphire eyes was only enhanced, as was her practically flawless near-porcelain complexion. Her hair, of course, was magical as always, the luxurious auburn cascades reaching fully down her back despite the clips that were in place, and her lips were a flushed red, almost matching the colour of her hair.

She was a vision; breathtaking. But Ariel saw none of it.

With another sigh, she began to needlessly adjust her three quarter gloves. Tip knew it was paramount to build her self esteem up as much and as quickly as possible—the dinner's scheduled start was only moments away.

"You _can _do it," the loyal penguin began. "No one else is going to do it for you. Not me, not Dash, and not that fluff-ball thing that's always following Belle around. This is your night… but only if you make it yours. If you want to be a coward and lock yourself in your room, that's your choice, but you'll be disappointing all of us. Especially Belle."

Quite amazed at Tip's speech, Ariel stared at him for a moment. Then she asked him in a quiet voice: "You really think everything will be OK?"

"Of course!" Tip instantly proclaimed, puffing out his chest. "It should be a whole lot better than OK! For starters, princess, just look at you. You look gorgeous. Sensational, even!"

Ariel rolled her eyes at the penguin, but she couldn't help flickering a smile. "Whatever."

They were both suddenly distracted by the floor shaking-lumbering that signalled Dash's entrance to the room. "Ahem, princess," he announced importantly with a beaming smile upon his face, "everything is ready."

"So it's definitely too late to back out of this?" Ariel asked sheepishly, her voice small.

In unison, Tip and Dash scolded her: "_Yes!_"

"Damn."

By the time Ariel had made it to one of the grand dining hall's entrances, being a top of a stairwell conjoined to a ledge that ran horizontally across one wall, with another set of stairs leading out from the ledge toward the shining tiles of the dining hall's floor, Belle was already waiting. She stood at the bottom of the flight of stairs that were directly opposite Ariel's point of entry, her eyes looking toward the grand dining hall, one hand resting upon the railing of the stairs in a relatively casual manner. _I hope she likes the dinner_…

When she first sensed Ariel in her peripheral vision, Belle turned her head, gazed up and smiled. Straightening her posture, she then locked both hands together in front of herself.

Ariel felt herself freeze; the nerves were becoming unbearable again. Part of her wished to dash off to her room in the west wing and lock herself up in there, much like she had when she first encountered her human intruder. Though now, her desire to run away was based on entirely different reasons.

Instead, Ariel could only stare, unblinking, as she remained at the top of the stairs, rigid as a statue.

Apart from her obvious anxiousness, Ariel was also stunned by Belle's incredible natural beauty. Elegant in a pink and purple pastel shaded strapless dress, Belle needed neither jewellery nor anything but the most minimal amount of make-up to enhance her lovely features. Her usually untied, thick and wavy medium-long chocolate brown hair tonight featured a single, rather cute pink bow at the back, tying up a single ponytail in the midst of free-flowing hair that curled over her sculptured but feminine shoulders. She looked up at Ariel with her dreamy, bronze-coloured eyes and smiled with her soft, full lips, tiny but noticeable dimples forming when she did so.

After a mutual gaze that seemed to last forever, that time appeared to stand still for, Ariel was snapped out of her enamoured trance by a sudden gentle shove from Tip, who was standing just behind her, upon the staircase's railing. Ariel's eyes sharply darted back at him, and Tip grinned confidently at her, whispering: "Just be yourself—how could she resist?" He then held up his fins, gesturing with them in a 'two thumbs up'-like manner.

Turning back toward Belle, Ariel took a deep breath and slowly began to descend the stairs. Belle's eyes were fixed on her the entire time, her coy smile remaining, and when Ariel at last met Belle at the bottom of the first set of stairs, Belle gently took Ariel's gloved right hand and tenderly kissed it.

Ariel could only manage a sweet, but nervous, smile. _Please stomach, untie yourself… now_.

"Good evening, your Majesty." Belle's voice was smooth, tinged with goose-bump inducing sultriness.

Ariel could only stutter in reply, "I, uhhh… hi," before groaning inwardly as she shut her eyes tightly, disappointed in her pathetic greeting. _I AM AN IDIOT_.

Obviously Belle didn't agree with Ariel's self-demeaning thoughts, as she then smiled warmly and held out her arm. Trying to control a blush she could feel flooding towards her face, Ariel avoided eye contact as she silently took Belle's arm.

As they then walked down the next flight of stairs together, Cheeky bounded up to greet them. He nuzzled Belle's legs affectionately, then Ariel's. Already purring, his purring only became louder once Ariel bent down to offer him a loving pat. The distraction Cheeky provided aided them in relaxing somewhat, Ariel even letting escape a slight laugh.

Ambling behind the couple as they strode arm-in-arm toward the meal that awaited them upon the grandly decorated dinner table, the curious cat sniffed the air and purred some more. Belle smiled down at him, shaking her head slightly. "You've already been fed, Cheeky."

"Well, it does look delicious," Ariel complimented. "I can see you went to a lot of trouble."

Belle shrugged her shoulders with dismissive modesty. "Not really. There's still a fair amount of supplies in the kitchen here, and hey, someone's got to use them."

Ariel smiled at the dinner. "I wish I knew how to cook."

"I'd be happy to teach you."

While Ariel and Belle began to share the sumptuous meal, Cheeky sat close by, watching, waiting for Belle to offer him a tasty morsel. At last, she relented, giving him a portion of warm buttered croissant. "I think I shall henceforth rename him 'Foodbag'," Belle, with mock haughtiness in her voice, joked to Ariel, who had by now mastered the fine art of eating food with a fork, and did so delicately at this time as she enjoyed her dinner.

Tip and Dash sat some distance away, as did Sebastian and Scuttle—though in a different area to the walrus and penguin—all of them watching intently.

Glancing at a centred plate full of what she guessed was dessert, Ariel, now finished her main, curiously asked: "What are they?"

Belle plucked one round, chocolate and coconut covered morsel off the plate. "Why, they're snowballs. Remember, the 'Celebration of Snow'?" With a silly grin, she then took a bite. With a giggle, Ariel then reached for her own snowball.

Once she began to eat it, she and Belle remained sitting in an awkward silence for some time. Sebastian decided now was the opportune time to begin the performance of the beautiful love song he had composed himself, specifically for this evening.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, gaining the girls' attention. "I would like to dedicate this to our esteemed Princess, Ariel of Atlantica, and her human companion."

Ariel blushed and placed a gloved hand upon her face, quite embarrassed_. Oh no. He's going to sing_.

Sebastian opened his mouth to begin… but was interrupted by the off-key squawking of a certain seagull, determined to have a solo in the song.

Ariel spread the fingers of her hand to cover her face as much as possible, feeling herself turn crimson.

Sebastian was growing crimson too, but out of anger rather than embarrassment. Belle however, found the situation to be quite amusing. "Hey, we're being serenaded," she said to Ariel, who was still hiding her face.

"If you could call it that," Ariel muttered in reply.

Thankfully, the cringe worthy warbling of Scuttle was abruptly halted by a well timed nuzzle from Cheeky, the gentle cat himself also expressing the wish: _Please be quiet_.

Sebastian was now free to continue, as Scuttle was frozen in terror by the fact that the cat had touched him.

The crab cleared his throat once more, before beginning his song, his voice rich and deep.

Belle, upon hearing the melodious tune and meaningful lyrics, soon began fantasising about how the song might sound on her violin, and she momentarily became lost in her own thoughts as the inner musician within her stirred.

Upon hearing Ariel whisper the words: "Yes, Sebastian, this couldn't be more humiliating," Belle soon forgot these thoughts, realising that this was not a night to be pondering chords and key signatures.

Inspired by Ariel's charming, innocent beauty, Belle stood up with a nervous sigh and walked to the opposite end of the table.

"Dance with me?" Belle softly inquired, outstretching a hand to the still seated Ariel.

Ariel stuttered in reply: "I… I don't know how."

"Which is why I'll teach you."

Slowly standing up as she tentatively took Belle's hand, Ariel at last answered, her voice almost a squeak: "Ummm… OK."

"Well, it's got to be more fun than sitting here whilst your face slowly turns the colour of your hair."

Shyly, but confidently at the same time, Belle then led Ariel to the ballroom, where they soon assumed a dance position, Ariel standing back somewhat, a little awkwardly.

"We're going to have to get a little bit closer," Belle told her, pulling Ariel nearer with a gentle but firm hand.

In the soft but ample candlelight that shone from several well placed candles around the room, Ariel felt her heart race and her cheeks flush as Belle held her closely. Not only due to the intimate physicality of the pose, but also in part because Ariel had no idea what she was supposed to do, and didn't wish to make a complete fool of herself.

Of course, Belle knew this, and she was eager to teach, just as had she been regarding the many human traits and pastimes that Ariel had never experienced, over the course of the past few weeks. Indeed Belle was nervous also, but she had become more adept at hiding her feelings.

With a gallant smile and wink, Belle took Ariel's left hand with her right, and after a soulful, lingering glance passed between them, slowly, Belle began to demonstrate the steps of the dance.

"Remember when I taught you how to ice-skate? Well, it's a little like that. It's all about timing and poise," Belle instructed as she gazed at Ariel, who would keep glancing down at her feet, and back up again.

"Hopefully I won't fall over," Ariel nervously joked as she began to count in her head as she had done when she first strapped on a pair of ice-skates.

It was a slow, easy waltz, and due to Ariel's experience in the world of music and her innate sense of rhythm, she picked up the pace very quickly.

In relative silence, the only sound being that of the last phrases of Sebastian's singing, they soon swept gracefully across the dance floor, the whole time being watched by the four sea creatures as well as the softly purring Cheeky, who had sat beside Scuttle, the seagull still rigid since Cheeky had surprised him with a nuzzle.

Not long after the completion of Sebastian's ballad, Ariel and Belle decided to venture out onto the balcony that was adjoined to the ballroom for a little fresh air, as well as for some privacy.

A little breathless from dancing and laughing, they were both a little taken aback by the cool night air that rushed at them as they stepped outside, but they soon grew used to it.

As their breathing became normal and they acclimatised to the chill of the night air, Ariel and Belle slowly walked towards the balcony railing, hand-in-hand. There, they sat down, extremely close to one another, their bodies turned inward, their closest leg just touching.

Belle looked up at the night sky and smiled. The stars were twinkling in their thousands, and at this moment it seemed as if they were shining only for herself and Ariel.

An avid stargazer from an early age, Belle sighed at the sudden recollection of a memory that involved her father and herself gazing up dreamily at the stars when she was still a child.

Ariel, too, was distracted by her own thoughts. Smiling to herself, she let out a small giggle as she recalled Tip's suggested words for her to say: "_Crazy Human Girl, I think you're swell_."

Distracted, Belle glanced back at Ariel, a smile forming upon her face also. "What's so funny?"

"Huh?" Ariel's smile disappeared as she became nervous once more. "Oh, nothing. It was just something Tip said earlier, that's all."

"You're not going to let me in on the joke?"

"Erm… well… we were kind of talking about… you."

Belle raised an eyebrow, but continued to smile. "I can only imagine what Tip must say about me when I'm not in the room."

Ariel's smile returned, and she laughed gently. After a long pause, as her smile gradually disappeared again, Ariel timidly took Belle's hands. She knew this was the perfect moment to reveal the truth in her heart—the dinner, the dancing and now the enchanting starlight—had all led to this, and had set the moment up flawlessly.

Wanting to be certain that Belle would take her seriously, Ariel looked deeply into Belle's eyes as she softly said the words: "Belle, I… There's something I want to tell you."

"Yes?" Belle said, her voice equally as soft.

Ariel swallowed hard. "I'm happy that you're here."

"I'm happy too."

Ariel searched for the right words to explain, but it wasn't easy for her. Her voice seemed to become shakier with every nervous, just audible sentence. "I mean, I wasn't at first, but you understand about all that. At least I hope you do…"

"I understand."

"You risked your life for me, you've taught me so much… I… I owe _you_ so much."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I just want you to know… that I'm so happy that I met you. Happy that you're here. I… I hope you're happy, too."

Belle flickered a smile. "I just said that I was."

Ariel seemed surprised. "Oh."

Belle's smile widened. Her eyes remained fixed on Ariel's for some time, but then, to Ariel's alarm, Belle averted her gaze, her smile disappearing. Her eyes were cast downward now, a hint of sadness evident in them. Her memory of stargazing with her father had prompted a rush of guilt and concern for Maurice, despite her desire to share this special evening with Ariel.

"What's wrong?" Ariel asked, suddenly concerned.

Belle glanced back up, trying to smile again. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking of my father, that's all. I love living here with you, and I want to stay… But… I feel terrible. I told Papa I'd only be gone for a couple of days, and… well, you know that I've been here a couple of weeks."

Understanding, Ariel nodded knowingly. If only she could see her own father again... She listened with caring concern as Belle continued: "I can't help but worry about him. All alone… and he's not young anymore. And what if he's concerned that something has happened to me? So much _has_ happened…"

Belle then returned Ariel's deep gaze as she quietly finished: "But... I don't want to leave you."

Ariel broke the gaze, becoming saddened by thoughts of her own father. Shaking her head slightly, she then met Belle's gaze again. She could see, in Belle's expression, how much this tore her apart—Ariel had had no idea that Belle had been harbouring such thoughts. Of course, she did not want Belle to leave either, not even for a day. But she did want to alleviate Belle's fear and worry—she did want, more than anything, just for Belle to be happy.

After a long, sombre silence, a sudden idea struck Ariel. _How could I have not thought of it sooner? _

Quietly, with a kind smile, she said: "I know how you can see your father."

Without another word, Ariel led Belle to her room in the west wing. Doing her best to ignore the wilted state of her enchanted sea-rose, Ariel plucked her magical seashell encrusted hand mirror from upon the simple wooden table and handed it to Belle.

"This mirror has the power to let you see anything," Ariel explained. "Anything in the world that you desire to see." _It's the only way I can see **my** father now..._

Belle stared at the mirror in shock as she grasped it, not entirely sure of its authenticity. "Really? Anything…?"

She then held the hand mirror up to her face and peered curiously into it. In a voice that was very nearly a whisper, she asked of the mirror: "I would like to see my father… Maurice Cartier… please."

Instantly, the mirror glowed with a mystical light. Slowly, Belle's reflection began to change into the desired image. When it became clear, Belle gasped in fright; her eyes widened, becoming full of panic.

Maurice was collapsed on the cold, hard floor of his basement workshop, his breathing shallow and erratic. He was semi-conscious, his lungs wheezing, his face frightfully pale.

"No! It… it can't be!"

"What? What's wrong?" Ariel's voice was just about as panic-stricken as Belle's—she could feel the pain that was ripping Belle apart, a pain that was evident on Belle's face, as if it were her very own.

"He's… he's sick! Alone, in the basement… no one is there to find him… what if he's dying? Papa…"

Belle's sentences were rapid, and she could feel a lump of fear growing in her throat and tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "I… I shouldn't have left him alone… for so long…"

Ariel could only gape in shock for a moment—tears welling up within her eyes also.

"You have to go—now!" She then suddenly blurted out upon snapping back to reality.

Belle stifled her tears—she was trying to convince herself to remain strong. "I know, but…"

Ariel glanced away. She didn't want to be having this conversation. She could not bear to say goodbye. And as she focused on her sea-rose, a sudden, horrible thought dawned upon her; it would be goodbye—forever.

The past few weeks spent with Belle had distracted her from her morose thoughts, the realisation that her time as a human was almost over—and, subsequently, her life. In a lightening quick flash, these maudlin thoughts filled her head once more as she felt herself being dragged back down into the depths of despair.

However, the feeling was not quite the same—she cared not that she would soon face death, but she could not even begin to accommodate the thought of never seeing Belle again. For if Belle was to leave now, as no doubt she must, then Ariel was almost certain that by the time she returned, if indeed she did, it would be too late. And she knew she could share none of these feelings with Belle—it would not be fair, and she could never do such a thing to the one she loved.

Struggling with herself, Ariel shut her eyes tightly and simply nodded. "It's OK. Your father needs you… You have to hurry!" She said, slowly and evenly.

Moving forward, Belle placed her hands upon Ariel's shoulders. "Ariel, I… as soon as Papa is better, as soon as I nurse him back to health… I'll come back."

Ariel could say nothing. She just stared forlornly at the ground.

"I promise," Belle insisted, tenderly touching Ariel's cheek with the hand that wasn't grasping the mirror.

With a bittersweet smile, she then turned to leave—only she stopped when she realised she was still in possession of the seashell encrusted hand mirror. She began to place it into Ariel's hands, but Ariel rejected it, gently pushing the mirror back towards Belle.

"You keep it—you'll be able to check on your father's condition while you're still returning home." Still, Ariel spoke evenly and seemingly without emotion, but her eyes were becoming more and more visibly teary.

"Thank you," Belle began gently as she clutched the mirror to her chest. "Afterwards, I'll use to find the quickest route back here."

She leaned forward and softly kissed Ariel on the cheek, Ariel's downcast eyes closing from the contact, her heart skipping a beat.

When she opened her eyes once more, Belle was already rushing out of the room, the eerie echo of her footsteps the only sound that could be heard.

Ariel remained stationary for quite some time, her hand still upon her cheek, her eyes still fighting back tears. Eventually her gaze fixed upon her enchanted sea-rose once more, and she slowly walked over to it. Placing a gloved hand absent-mindedly upon the glass of the protective bell jar, she slumped her shoulders and bowed her head deeply, her plentiful fringe flopping over her face, half covering it.

After what seemed like only moments to Ariel, but was in fact quite a while, an inquisitive Sebastian entered. "Hello, Ariel. How are things? Did you like my song? I hope it helped you find the right words to express your feelings…"

The crab had been smiling, but once he noticed that Ariel was slumped miserably over her sea-rose's bell jar, his face grew sad and serious.

Before he even had the chance to utter '_What's the matter?_', Ariel told him, without turning around or even straightening her posture at all: "She's gone, Sebastian." Her voice was shaky; her hand slid a little down the glass as she spoke.

Sebastian's eyes grew wide. "_What?_ But… but why?"

"Because… she's a wonderful daughter." _Unlike me_.

"Huh?" Sebastian scowled at the vague explanation. "But… Ariel, how could you… why would she… I'm confused outta my shell here."

With a sigh, Ariel simply shrugged, her back still to Sebastian. Without another word, the loyal crab then scurried back out of the room, his pincers folded in front of him in a sombre manner.

After another moment that seemed to pass a lot quicker than it did in reality, Ariel was distracted by a faint noise outside. She rushed over to the window, paused briefly, then stepped out onto the balcony.

She assumed the sound had been that of Belle leaving the castle, and she was correct.

Dressed now in the clothes she had arrived with, including her hooded cloak, Belle wielded an axe, no doubt for protection against any wild animals of the forest, most likely wolves, that dare approach her in the blackness of night. Cheeky followed, close to Belle's heels, his fur bristling a little on end.

As the glint of the moon caused Belle's silken hair to shimmer, and the shadows cast by her and Cheeky to be long and distorted, Ariel watched silently as Belle walked bristly from the castle's front entrance to the rusting gate that stood between her and the mist-riddled forest.

Almost as if she could sense that she was being watched, Belle stopped dead in her tracks, spun around and looked up, searching for Ariel.

Belle spotted her almost instantly, standing on her balcony, her hands upon the railing, a slight breeze flowing through her hair, moving it almost in a mesmerising fashion. Smiling the same bittersweet smile that she had for Ariel earlier in the west wing bedroom, Belle gave a little wave.

Smiling the tiniest flicker of a smile in return, Ariel lifted one hand off the railing and bent her fingers only once, signalling her own goodbye.

Belle remained gazing at her for a long moment, reluctant to leave. But she knew she must leave, and soon enough she had departed the castle grounds and sprinted off into the frost-bitten pitch of night.

Ariel followed with her gaze until Belle was completely out of view.

"I love you, Belle," she then whispered to herself in the darkness, her only reply that of the faint whistling of the weak frigid breeze.

Heartbroken, Ariel folded her arms across the balcony railing and buried her head upon them, unable to hold back the tears any longer.


	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

**"A Fiendish Plot or Two"**

Having always been an anxious horse, Philippe the Clydesdale awoke filled with terror at the slightest of sounds heard during the blackness of night.

In the bleak early hours of this particular morning, he panicked as he heard rushed footsteps accompanied by exhausted gasping breaths close in.

"Papa!" A voice called out, cracked and hoarse. Still, the voice was familiar, instantly recognised by Philippe's equine ears. His worry became joyful excitement as he trotted to greet Belle, whom he had not seen for several weeks.

Apparently, this excitement at their reunion was not returned by Belle, who was already throwing open the basement doors external to the cottage, as Philippe rounded the corner from his sleeping den to witness.

"Papa!" Belle called out again, her voice full of concern, as she lunged down concrete steps.

She halted dead in her tracks, however, once she caught glimpse of her father's limp form. He was lying face down on the chilled concrete floor, his skin tinged blue.

"Papa…?" Belle's voice was much softer now. She felt her chest tighten as panic surged through her, causing her body to tremble.

At the sound of his daughter's voice, Maurice stirred, ever so slightly.

Relief flooded through Belle instantaneously. _Thank goodness he's still alive!_

She raced over, kneeling beside her beloved father. "Papa… can you hear me? Are you alright? What… what happened?"

Maurice tried to lift his head, but was far too weak. He also failed to give an answer that was even remotely coherent, managing a mumble and a groan only.

"It's OK, Papa," Belle soothed as she placed an arm underneath his torso in order to help him to his feet. "It's OK… I'm… I'm back."

It was hours before Maurice regained complete consciousness, his wits finally returned to him. Belle had spent those hours mopping his feverish brow, cautiously dribbling water into his mouth, adjusting his pillows and blankets.

Now, as Maurice opened his heavy eyelids, he noticed his daughter sitting cross-legged on the floor, resting against his bed, her gaze intensely focused on the flickering flames of the fire ablaze within the humble fireplace that adorned the master bedroom.

Despite the joy of Belle having returned, and wondering about his own ordeal, amongst pondering about many other things, Maurice could not help but heed the first thought that entered his head. _She only stares at the fireplace like that when she is distressed._

Although exhausted, and relieved knowing her father was likely to fully recover, Belle could not sleep. She was haunted, haunted by her own feelings, and by her bittersweet memories.

She felt guilty for leaving her father alone for much longer than intended, but also angry at him for not taking care of himself properly… and she then experienced more guilt for being angry at him in the first place.

Moreover, she was heartbroken, unable to stop replaying in her head, over and over again, the last moments she had shared with Ariel. The sadness in Ariel's eyes, the choked-back tears in her voice… She had been shattered by the revelation that Belle had to leave, and although Belle knew not the full extent as to why, she too shared that misery as if it were her own. She longed to return to the castle, to Ariel, desperately wanting to tell Ariel that everything was going to be alright… to ease her pain… to dry her tears… _There has to be something more... something she's not telling me..._

"Belle?"

Maurice's groggy voice instantly drew Belle's gaze from the crackling fireplace.

"Papa!" A relieved, encouraged smile grew across Belle's face. "You're awake!"

"And you're home!" Maurice croaked, also overjoyed. He half sat up, the colour almost completely back in his cheeks, his eyes now focused. "I was starting to worry."

Belle couldn't help but laugh gently as she rolled her eyes. "_You _were starting to worry, huh?" She sprang up to seat herself on the bed, leaned forward, and planted a kiss on her father's forehead. "I mean, what happened? I told you to be careful, to look after yourself properly, and…"

"Yes, mother," Maurice chuckled. "So, maybe I missed a meal or two. Or three… or four. But this new invention is coming along really well, and I wanted to finish it before…"

"Geez, Papa," Belle sighed, although she was still smiling widely. "I think someone needs reminding about who is the child and who is the parent here."

Maurice chuckled again, before pulling Belle toward him for a tight embrace. "I've missed you so much, my beautiful girl."

"I've missed you too, Papa," Belle whispered. Her guilt was rising, now becoming the dominant emotion in her tumultuous mixture of feelings. She broke the embrace and averted her gaze. "I… I haven't been gone that long."

"A lot longer than I thought you would be!"

Still unable to return her gaze to her father's, Belle quietly apologised: "I'm… I'm sorry, Papa."

"Hey, it's alright," Maurice dismissed with cheer in his voice. "I'm the one who's an old fool… not looking after myself… especially in this cold weather…"

This comment managed to bring a smile back to Belle's face. "Ah, so you admit it."

"Well, I never denied it!" Maurice laughed. "OK, OK. I get the point. I'm the parent, you're the child. You shouldn't have to look after me."

"It's OK," Belle murmured as she glanced downward. "I do it because I love you… and because I know you're trying to make life better for the both of us by working on your inventions all the time."

"Ah, but without you, my workshop assistant, I am nothing!" Maurice playfully teased.

Belle giggled and sighed "Whatever," in response.

For the first time, Maurice noticed a heavy mass near his feet, helping to warm them. Curled up upon the bed was Cheeky, half asleep, but keeping an eye on proceedings.

"Why, hello there Cheeky boy!" Maurice greeted. "I've missed you too, fluffy one."

Cheeky's growing purr made it obvious that he was pleased to see Maurice also.

Belle had turned towards Cheeky upon Maurice's mention of him, and she now gazed vacantly into the distance, her eyes forlorn, her expression troubled. Maurice noticed this, and thought back to when he had first awoke, remembering Belle by the fireplace.

"What is it?" He asked gently.

"Hmmm?" Belle turned back to face her father. "What is what?"

"What is wrong?" Maurice tried again. "Did something… happen at the castle? Did you ever meet that girl… uh, what was her name…"

"Ariel."

"Yeah… that's it. She… she wasn't mean to you was she?"

"What?" Belle almost laughed, before remembering that in the beginning, Ariel had not liked her very much at all. "Well… when I first met her… she wasn't… too happy for me to be there…" Belle's voice was very quiet, her posture slightly slumped.

"Yes, that's right… I remember the crab wasn't very fond of humans." Maurice chuckled to himself once he recalled his first meeting with the uptight Sebastian.

"Yeah," Belle agreed, almost in a whisper. "They were fine, though… once they knew I wasn't going to eat them."

"Hmmm… what about… Ariel?"

"What about her?"

Maurice wondered if Belle realised how vague she sounded. The girl they were referring to was supposedly a mermaid, how could he not be curious?

"Well… for one thing… did she… did she have a tail?"

"_What?_" Belle raised her voice a little, her brow creased slightly. Until, a very short moment later, she realised what her father had meant. "Oh, no. She doesn't have a tail. She's human… She's human, just like you and me…"

"Oh… OK." Maurice frowned, puzzled by his daughter's mood and reluctance to give details regarding her stay at the castle. He thought for a moment before gently adding, "Well, I guess she mustn't have been mean to you, otherwise you wouldn't have stayed there so long…"

"I told you, I wasn't gone that long!" Belle suddenly snapped, startling her father. Instantly, she regretted it, becoming wracked with guilt once more. "Oh Papa… I'm… I'm so sorry…" She placed her head in her hands. "I guess I'm just… really tired…"

"It's… it's OK." Maurice was not so much upset by Belle's outburst, but rather, concerned for her well being. "Hey, I'll be alright if you want to go and get some rest for a while."

"Actually," Belle sighed as she lifted her head to gaze out of a nearby window, "I think I'll go for a walk. Get some fresh air…"

It was nearly noon, not an overly bright winter's day but pleasant enough. There were some menacing clouds poised on the distant horizon, but it would be several days before they became a threat, or so Belle estimated as she noticed them.

"Well… if you feel up to it… there are some errands you can run in town."

Town. Belle disliked venturing there on a normal day, let alone being burdened with the mood she was currently in. Being surrounded by the everyday 'normal' folk only accentuated how different she was, and made her feel all the more isolated. And it would only be worse now… after all that had happened…

"Sure," Belle tried her best to smile. Going to town was, after all, a necessity. "I'll go and get whatever you need, Papa."

* * *

Belle couldn't believe her own naivety at the thought that a stroll through town might have possibly made her feel better. Sure, the crisp, fresh winter air that she deeply inhaled aided a little in clearing the sleep-deprived fog that clouded her mind… but being pelted with questions from every second villager regarding her recent whereabouts only roused her anger and impatience. And this was noticed, too; that Belle's temperament was not at its usual cheerful but eccentrically aloof state.

"_Belle!" The baker had exclaimed as she had strode past. "Where have you been? Your father has been coming to town in your stead… is everything OK?"_

"_I'm fine," was all she had answered, barely lifting her gaze. "I've just been… away."_

"_She really doesn't seem like herself," one of the town gossips had noted. "Perhaps she has been sick?"_

Now, in the midst of her errands, Belle stood at the entrance of the town bookstore. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had last visited her favourite place in town; and now, it no longer held the same esteem it once had. Not so much due to being spoilt for choice by the castle library that Ariel had given her, but rather because of the company she had shared whilst spending countless hours perusing the plentiful books there. Anywhere without Ariel now… just seemed so… empty.

Belle couldn't help but grow a wistful smile as she reminisced about one such time in that magnificent library.

_Ariel had found a copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet, and for some reason, it had sparked her interest. She __went on to flick through several pages, before shutting the book tightly and looking up at Belle with confused eyes._

_ "Ummm… did people actually talk like that once?" Ariel had asked._

"_Why, yes."_

_Ariel hadn't seemed able to believe it. "Wow… really?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Are you sure?"_

_ "Yea, verily."_

"_Oh, shut up," Ariel had then giggled before returning Hamlet to the shelf._

Belle let out a heavy sigh, dropping her head. It had not yet been a single day since they parted, but somehow, it felt much, much longer. An increasingly heavy burden of worry rested within Belle's chest. Sure, she had no more wanted to leave than Ariel had wanted her to go, but she had promised… she did promise to return. Why had Ariel not found any comfort in those words? Surely she would know, beyond any doubt, that Belle had every intention of keeping true that promise. _Something… something just isn't right. There's something she's not telling me_… _I just know it._

Unknown by Belle, who was too lost in her own troubled thoughts regardless, a startled villager had caught sight of her from behind, stopping dead in his tracks. He immediately began to stomp toward her, his fists becoming clenched.

"Belle! Where the hell have you been?"

That voice. That rich, booming voice. It shattered her thoughts like a hammer would glass. Slowly, dreading the upcoming conversation, Belle turned around to face he who had questioned her.

"Gaston."

"I was starting to think you were dead or something!"

"Well… I'm not," Belle shrugged as she stated the obvious.

"And that's good!" Gaston managed to flash his pearly whites at last. He was more annoyed with Belle for disappearing suddenly, especially when he had a plan he was desperately eager to put into motion, rather than concerned for her safety. "I've… missed you."

Judging by the tone of his voice as he had said the word 'missed', Belle guessed that there were two words edited from that sentence. Namely, 'leering at'.

Brazen as always, Gaston took a generous step forward and placed a hand on Belle's shoulder. "You know… you don't look so great. Which… is not a good look on you. Go home and get some rest… and I'll stop by later tonight to see how you're doing."

Before Belle had the chance to retort _'Not on your life'_, Gaston had promptly turned around and strutted off. There was no way for Belle to see the cocksure smirk grow across his face, or to know that his next intended destination was the Maison de Lunes to inform his cohort, D'Arque, of Belle's return.

* * *

"Is your tea alright, Papa?"

Maurice sighed. That must have been the third time Belle had asked that particular question. "Yes, my dear. Just strong enough, just sweet enough," he answered with a smile.

He was seated in the main living area, upon his favourite chair, a blanket draped over him for extra warmth. It was now evening, and the air was bitterly cold outside, warning perhaps that another snowfall was imminent.

Belle sat on the floor, adjacent to the room's roaring fireplace, and directly facing her father. Her knees were raised and she was leaning back a fraction, her weight supported by her outstretched arms behind her. Her sad eyes were, for the most part, transfixed on the lively, hissing fire.

Maurice was concerned for Belle's sombre mood, and very curious as to just what had transpired at that mysterious castle, but he did not want to push his daughter into speaking before she was ready. Largely, they sat in silence, Maurice trying to think of comforting but neutral phrases to say, Belle unable to think much of anything other than Ariel.

She had managed to nap for a few brief hours that afternoon, but Belle still felt listless and drained. Maurice had dozed most of the day away himself, still suffering from chesty coughing fits from time to time, but most certainly on the road to recovery.

Clearing his throat, Maurice glanced down into his hot, half-full mug of tea. "Belle, I… You know it concerns me when you stare at the fireplace like that."

Belle's eyes moved from said fireplace to her father. "Sorry." Then she gazed at the floor, her eyes starting to sting from the heat and the beginnings of tears. "I'm sorry."

"Please, stop apologising," Maurice gently insisted. "I just know that it means you're troubled, that's all. That something is bothering you…"

"Hmmm…"

"You haven't been yourself since you came home."

Home. Strangely, that description did not seem to quite fit. _I'm… I'm not home. This doesn't feel like home… not anymore._

"Papa…?" Belle finally began in a whisper, her eyes cast downward. "I… I need to tell you something."

Maurice straightened in his chair, wanting Belle to know she had his full attention.

"I… I need you to know that… when you're better… and I mean _completely absolutely_ better… I'm planning to return to the castle."

Maurice could not help but chuckle. "That's all? Why were you so worried about telling me _that_? It's OK, I understand."

"Actually…" Belle grimaced, and she felt her shoulders tighten. "I don't think you understand… completely. I mean… I'm planning to go back and _stay_ there. Live there… permanently."

Maurice's eyes grew wide. "Oh…?"

"But I'll visit all the time," Belle's words became rushed now, as she looked up at her father with eyes full of guilt and anxiety. "It's not that far… really… And you absolutely POSITIVELY have to promise me you'll look after yourself…"

"Belle," Maurice finally cut in, "first I want you to tell me what happened."

"What… happened?"

"At the castle, silly!"

"Oh…"

Maurice laughed gently. "You seem so depressed… and I'm guessing now it's because you're eager to return there."

"No… it's not just that…" Belle's voice trailed off as she averted her eyes once more.

"Well, tell me, anyway… an ex-mermaid and talking sea creatures… how could I not want to hear about your time with them?" He smiled warmly at this daughter. "Come on, humour your old man."

Belle opened her mouth to speak, but only managed to say the word "I…" before falling silent again.

Maurice implored her with curious eyes. "Yes?"

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to say them… desperately wanted her father to know… and wanted to hear herself say them aloud. But somehow… she could not. She just could not bring herself to say those four words. She sighed, shutting her eyes tightly. _I… I fell in love_.

A short, sharp rap on their cottages' front door startled both father and daughter.

Relieved for the distraction, Belle exhaled audibly, before promptly standing up and moving toward the door to answer it.

Maurice eyed the front door of their cottage with confusion, wondering who could possibly be visiting at the current hour.

As her hand grasped the doorknob, Belle suddenly remembered Gaston's intention to visit, and groaned inwardly. It was not Gaston directly behind that door, however. Belle was surprised to see another figure there, a shadowy, sneering older man.

Belle's surprise soon gave way to the dislike she felt, almost passionately, for this man, an individual she was all too familiar with.

Crossing her arms defensively, Belle muttered the greeting: "Monsieur D'Arque. I trust this isn't a social call?"

"Ah, Mademoiselle Cartier," D'Arque spoke in his usual smooth, deep and chillingly calm voice, "it's been a while, hasn't it? But… come to think of it, I don't think I've ever been invited here for social reasons." He raised his eyebrows, casting a greasy smile that unnerved Belle a little.

Outwardly, her resolve was still cool and collected, however. "Well, when one attempts to incarcerate a nine-year-old child, one should not expect a welcome mat."

D'Arque shook his head slightly. "Ten years on, and you still haven't forgiven me. It's time to move on, my dear."

Feeling anger rise, Belle scoffed, glancing away. It was then that she noticed hordes of villagers sauntering toward her cottage. _What?__ Why are they all here?_ She wondered, before her eyes found what the most likely reason was: the Maison de Lunes wagon. Most probably, townsfolk had seen the wagon venture by from their homes, and decided to follow, in the hope of witnessing a spectacle.

"What do you want?" Belle asked D'Arque abruptly, her tone harsh.

"Actually…" D'Arque drew the sentence out, enjoying the prolonged exchange with his one-time patient, "I've come to collect… your father."

"My father?" Belle raised her voice, as she threw her hands up. "What? Why?"

Maurice could hear all that was said, and slowly rose off his chair, before shuffling toward the door, panic rising in his chest.

"Apparently he's been making up stories about mermaids and talking sea creatures," D'Arque smoothly answered, keeping a straight face. "Why, he even said that you had gone to stay with these fantasy creatures in a castle on the other side of the woods."

The gathering crowd had caught D'Arque's words, and they began to snicker and titter, just as Maurice appeared beside Belle.

"Ah, here's the man himself," D'Arque teased. "Tell us all again, in your own words, what these sea creatures said to you?"

Silent, in the shadows nearby, Gaston watched his plan unfold with a smug grin.

Maurice looked up at Belle, who was herself staring out into the crowd, her mind obviously ticking over as she tried to conjure the possibilities of how to rescue her father from this unfortunate mess.

Stepping forward, Maurice began, in all seriousness: "The seagull spoke first. He was friendly and welcoming. But the crab didn't want me there, anywhere near his mermaid princess, and he ordered me to leave…"

The crowd burst into frenzied laughter. Maurice was only trying to explain himself, confident now that Belle was by his side. But still, no one would believe him.

"I'm not inventing this story. It's completely true!" He insisted, throwing his hands up. The cruel townspeople only guffawed harder. "Belle will tell you!"

Barely listening to her father or the crowd as her mind raced, Belle's eyes, at last, fixed on Gaston. He was lingering back from the crowd, semi-hidden in the shadows cast by other people's torches and by moonlight.

Furious, Belle raced down her porch steps, shoving D'Arque aside, and over to the grinning Gaston.

"Poor, misunderstood Belle. It's a shame for such a horrid thing to happen to you," he greeted in false concern.

"Don't offer me your pity," she snapped back, glaring at him. "Why do I get the feeling your presence here tonight is not mere coincidence? You're behind this, aren't you? What have you done?"

"Tsk, tsk. Accusations, accusations…" Gaston slowly ambled forward, stroking his great, chiselled chin. "Hmmm. But D'Arque and I _are_ close fellows. Maybe, if I ask him nice enough, he'll let Maurice go. On one condition…" His voice trailed off and he narrowed his pale blue eyes.

With one hand placed on Maurice's shoulder in an authoritarian manner, D'Arque watched the nearby exchange between Belle and Gaston with a fierce gaze.

"And that is?" Belle asked impatiently, her anger rising.

"Marry me. Tomorrow, at noon. Everything is already taken care of—all you have to do is show up and say two little words: 'I do'." Gaston slid his arm around Belle's shoulders, certain she would agree.

"_What?_" Belle could not believe the arrogant insolence of this man. Almost violently, she pushed him away, shouting: "Not if you were the last being on earth!"

A little taken aback, Gaston stared at her for a moment. Then he shrugged, feigning nonchalance, before saying to her in a cruel voice: "Obviously you don't care very much about your father, then. But I'm sure the rats in the asylum will be happy to keep Maurice company! Unless of course, _you_ would like to keep him company."

Before Belle had a chance to retaliate, she heard her father's voice call out: "Let go of me! Belle, help!"

At D'Arque's orders, several of Gaston's cronies had stepped forward to seize Maurice, and now, they had both of his arms gripped tightly, and were hauling him toward the asylum's wagon.

Thinking quickly, Belle pushed through the taunting and jeering crowd to momentarily retreat back inside her cottage. Within seconds she emerged again, grasping the sea-shell encrusted hand mirror that Ariel had entrusted to her. She had been reluctant to even look upon the mirror, let alone use it. Reminding her of Ariel, it only compounded Belle's misery. But now, its magical powers were needed…

"My father is telling the truth, and I can prove it!" She shouted so all could hear, the crowd falling silent upon hearing her words. Gaston snapped to attention, turning to face her with an intrigued but slightly worried look upon his face.

Knowing she now had the crowd's full attention, Belle demanded of the mirror: "Show me the mermaid who lives in the castle!" Then, she held the elegant hand-held mirror aloft for all to see.

As the mirror became enshrouded with a mystical glow, Gaston forced his way to the front of the hushed crowd. Standing just at the base of Belle's porch steps, he studied the image that appeared in the glass of the enchanted mirror, his eyes narrowed to a squint.

He, D'Arque, and the other townsfolk close enough could all see a pretty young woman with her head resting upon her folded arms, crying. They could only see Ariel from the torso up—they did not see that she had not a mermaid's tail, but human legs, and broke out into excited whispers.

"She's real?" D'Arque asked Gaston, who simply stared in disbelief.

"And what of the talking sea creatures?" A woman from the crowd asked Belle, who was now gazing sadly at Ariel's image.

Composing herself, Belle glanced back up at the crowd, and answered in a stern voice: "They're as real as she is."

The crowd gasped in reply, Gaston's men even releasing Maurice from their rough grip.

"Do you believe my father now? Now will you leave us alone?" Belle pleaded to the crowd, her voice now shaking slightly from emotion. She had become upset from witnessing Ariel in such a miserable state, and she was also very stressed by the current situation revolving around Gaston and her father.

Gaston was too self-assured to even feel humiliated that the plan had failed. Instead, he had already concocted a new plan, one that could make him a very rich man, if executed correctly… and one that could also aid in forcing Belle to become his wife.

"Sure, Belle. Your father is pardoned from institution," Gaston smugly began. "Right now, there's something far more interesting for me to turn my attention to." He stalked toward her, and Belle glared at him once more, not backing an inch.

Meeting her face to face at the top of the porch steps, Gaston's voice grew quiet, so only he and Belle could hear.

"I saw the look on your face a moment ago… You care about this mermaid, don't you? She's… your friend?"

"Yes," Belle answered, softening her glare none.

"Just as I thought," Gaston said, and in a lightening fast motion that Belle was unprepared for, he snatched the glowing hand-held mirror from her grasp and whirled to face the crowd.

"A mermaid!" He began to crowd, the townspeople now all listening to their local hero intently: "A real, actual mermaid! For years, we've been told these creatures don't exist!"

"What are you doing?" Belle asked in an alarmed tone, before demanding: "Give me the mirror back!"

In another unexpected motion, Gaston roughly grabbed Belle's arm with his free hand and threw her forward, so she tumbled down the porch steps. She rose to her feet quickly and prepared to lunge back toward the brutish man, but was quickly apprehended by two of Gaston's cronies.

"Get your hands off me!" She screamed at them—one a burly, bearded man, the other a tall, balding man with few teeth left—but they simply grinned at her with contempt. In her adrenaline enhanced state, Belle would have been almost capable of breaking free from the pair, and she struggled fiercely, the cronies battling to keep their grip of her arms. D'Arque sauntered over, wanting to keep a close eye on Belle.

Belle stopped struggling abruptly when she noticed Gaston slowly walking down the porch steps and toward her. He stared at her for a moment, before re-addressing the awaiting crowd.

"Our humble village has stumbled upon the opportunity of a lifetime! Think about it: if we capture this mermaid and her talking sea creature friends, we'll be an even more popular tourist destination than Paris!"

The crowd cheered in jubilant agreement, Gaston waving to them in a victorious manner. "I will gather a small group of men, and in no time, we will bring you these wondrous creatures!"

The crowd cheered again, louder than before, with many people whispering excitedly to each other.

"We'll all be rich!"

"Everyone in Europe will want to visit here!"

"I can't wait to meet this mermaid!"

These were just a few of the phrases that Belle could hear as she stared at Gaston with livid eyes. She was again simply astonished by Gaston's audacity, and what he was proposing: to capture and enslave Ariel as some sort of tourist attraction, largely to feed his selfish, money-hungry desires.

"You can't be serious!" She scowled at him, becoming unable to find the appropriate words to express her disgusted fury, stammering: "You… you…"

"Now, Belle," Gaston began quietly as he moved closer to her, "surely you must know that you have a special role to play in all this. Capturing this mermaid will make me her owner… and you're her friend, aren't you?"

Belle averted her scathing gaze as Gaston continued: "Certainly you'll want to make sure that she's properly looked after? That she isn't… treated badly? Well, unless you're always there in some sort of caretaker role—as my wife, for example—I can't guarantee that I'll treat your mermaid friend very well."

Gaston flashed his pearly whites in a chillingly sinister manner. He was certain from Belle's continued silence and averted gaze that he was triumphant this time—Belle would have to accept his conditions.

She struggled again in a sudden burst of energy, trying to shake the cronies free. But Gaston distracted her once more by snatching a torch from a nearby villager and passing it to D'Arque.

"Of course, until we have the mermaid and her friends securely captured, we can't have you causing a scene…"

With those words, Gaston winked at D'Arque, who seemed to understand immediately. He grew a wicked smile, his eyes sparkling as they fixed on Belle.

"Sweet dreams, Belle."

"Why, you…"

Before Belle could finish her enraged sentence, D'Arque walloped her across the back of the head with the thick unlit end of the torch, and immediately for Belle, everything faded into black.


	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

**"Betrayed, Besieged"**

Many, many moments had passed, but she knew not for how long her consciousness had been astray. Neither did she know the locale of her current whereabouts. All she knew, as her eyes now fluttered open, was that this unknown place was dark, as black and hollow as the empty unconsciousness she had been forced to endure.

This bleak ambiance, and the distant, ghoulish cries her ears registered in disbelief, sent a shiver racing down her spine. This shiver caused her to jolt forward slightly, a gasp escaping from her throat. She came to realise she had been leaning awkwardly against a concrete wall, sitting on an equally chilled concrete floor. Her mind churned for answers, both as to where she was currently situated, and exactly what had transpired in the moments when her consciousness had been absent.

"Ah, Belle," a deep, even voice pierced the darkness. "I see you are awake."

She was not alone. She had assumed that she was…

Squinting her eyes, Belle could make out D'Arque's sharp figure, seated on a simple metallic chair halfway across the room. Beside his feet flickered a lone, dim candle. His murky eyes seemed like soulless, liquid pools as he leered at her in the inadequate light.

"Mmmm…?" Belle wanted to conjure anger, but her concussion rendered her too subdued. "Where… where am I?"

"Where some villagers believe you belong, dear girl," D'Arque snickered in response. Reaching down to carefully grasp the candle holder, he then slowly stood, his stiff, ageing knees not allowing quicker movement. With his free hand D'Arque proceeded to drag his chair across the floor so he could seated closer to his captive, the high-pitched grating of metal on concrete agony for Belle's currently sensitive ears.

"Oh, I am sorry about the noise," D'Arque apologised, without a hint of sincerity, upon noticing that Belle had shut her eyes and gritted her teeth. "Guess you are not feeling the best," he coldly added as he sat down once more, crossing one leg over the other, much closer to Belle now.

"I… I do have a bit of a headache," Belle mumbled, choosing not to look at D'Arque's ragged, unpleasant features. "Not that _you_ care."

"Ahhh, but you are wrong, Mademoiselle. I do care. That is why I have been here, watching over you, waiting for you to wake up."

Belle let a cynical laugh escape, before glancing up at D'Arque. "I'm… this is your asylum, isn't it?"

"Correct."

Belle's posture stiffened, a wave of panic fluttering through her chest. "Where's… where's my father?"

"He's here too. In another cell, by himself."

A sudden memory struck Belle. Her mind was hazy and racing, but in an instant she had remembered, not exact words but certainly the context, of a conversation she and Gaston had been engaged in briefly before she had been rendered unconscious.

"Where's Gaston?" Belle abruptly demanded, her voice rising.

D'Arque shrugged, apparently uninterested. "On his way to that castle, I suppose. Took a handful of men with him, promising our village fame and riches." His tone was constant, no emotion present. It seemed he was not too impressed by Gaston's endeavours.

Belle's anger was beginning to breach her concussion now. "No… no! He can't!" She positioned her hands so they would aid in supporting her to stand, but her arm muscles trembled as she tried to push upward. She was still too weak…

With a frustrated groan, Belle clenched her hands into fists. "He… I won't… I won't let him hurt Ariel…"

D'Arque's gaze hardened, but he managed a chortle. "I doubt very much that you'll be going anywhere. And I can't tell you how annoyed I was to discover the mermaid and her strange talking friends are actually real."

Belle glared fiercely at him. "_What?_"

D'Arque shrugged once more. "It complicates things, that's all. I mean… if Gaston actually does get the job done. Manages to capture them…"

"What do you mean?"

D'Arque shifted in his seat, silent for a moment. Shadows cast by the lone candle sharpened his features, somehow making him appear more menacing than usual. He clasped his bony, weathered hands upon his lap, before inhaling a deep breath and finally answering Belle's question.

"I was going to offer you a deal."

"A… deal?"

"Yes. To have Gaston locked up in here instead of you."

"What?" Belle could barely believe his words. She placed a hand to her forehead, confused, and growing ever-more impatient. "And why would you do that?"

"Because he is an insufferable fool," D'Arque snapped, before glancing down at his locked hands. "He has more muscles than he knows what to do with…"

"Uh… huh." Belle frowned, shutting her eyes tightly again. She could actually hear emotion in D'Arque's voice, possibly the first time anyone ever had. And that emotion was jealousy, plain and simple. "For once we agree on something."

"Yes…" D'Arque managed a smug grin. "And all you would have to do… is agree to marry me instead."

Instantly, Belle's eyes sprang open, and she lifted her head to gaze directly at D'Arque. "I beg your pardon?"

D'Arque's smirk grew as he glanced sideways. "Hmmm, I know what you must be thinking. I'm old enough to be your father…"

"That's not all I was thinking," Belle muttered, unheard by D'Arque.

"…And double-crossing the most popular man in town is a great risk. But I do have the power to do so, to incarcerate him. As I do you, and your father."

Belle laughed bitterly, silently urging her strength to completely return to her. "Monsieur… I thought you despised me."

"You are difficult, yes."

Sarcasm was obvious in Belle's reply. "Thanks."

"Well, by difficult I mean… spirited. And that is not necessarily a bad thing." D'Arque leaned forward in his chair after those words, staring at his prisoner intently. "That is Gaston's flaw. He sees nothing but a pretty trophy wife. And yes, although it would be a great stroke to the ego to have the most beautiful woman in town on your arm, I am one of the few who realises you are more than that. Beauty is fleeting, but you have… What I see is a passionate young woman whose intelligence makes her both compelling… and dare I say, a little bit intimidating."

"And that… turns you on." Instantly, Belle regretted her choice of words, and scowled in disgust.

After a brief chuckle, D'Arque answered: "You could say that."

This situation had, somehow, become even worse for Belle, who squirmed uncomfortably as she desperately tried to conjure an escape plan. _I need to get to Ariel before Gaston does!_

"I knew you would not be thrilled by the proposition," D'Arque's smooth voice filled the eerie cell once again, "but your only other options are to marry Gaston, or spend the rest of your days in this very room. Personally, I would not consider marrying me the worst choice." He thought for a moment before adding: "Oh, and let's not forget, if you stay here, so does your father."

Repulsed, Belle could only stare at the chilled, hard floor for a moment. She knew the longer she waited, the more her strength would return. She could feel it now, coursing through her body like a blazing fire. A fire sparked by one desire, one irrepressible urge: to protect Ariel.

Lifting her head slowly, Belle's eyes caught glimpse of the glistening keys hanging from a silver ring attached to D'Arque's belt. The master keys.

With a heavy sigh, she finally began to speak. "As I recall, I told Gaston I would not marry him if he were the last being on earth. That same rule now applies to you, Monsieur." Her words were icy cold, as were her usually warm, gentle eyes.

D'Arque flinched involuntarily, despite not being surprised. He narrowed his eyes, a bitter snarl forming upon his shrivelled lips. "Well, dare I say, you will rot forever in this cell."

D'Arque intended to stand and leave Belle alone in the dank, wretched room to ponder her fate, but a sudden, unexpected action from Belle's right leg caused him to crash heavily onto his side, and he recoiled in pain, winded and groaning. She had lashed out and kicked, with as much force as she could manage, one of the legs of D'Arque's chair, causing it to topple, and subsequently D'Arque had lost his balance.

Belle lunged at the fallen older man like a predator pouncing on its prey. A rush of dizziness accompanied her forward movement, but Belle knew she could not succumb if she was to be successful in escaping. With all of her focus sharply tuned on the task at hand, Belle fought the dizziness, the nausea, the throbbing pain in her head. Adrenaline aided her now, as she fumbled with D'Arque's belt, trying to unhook his master key set.

Only mildly injured, D'Arque recovered after being stunned momentarily and desperately attempted to keep the keys in his control with one hand, whilst pushing and hitting Belle with the other.

Age was against the somewhat frail man, and he failed to deter Belle from her task. She struggled against his counter grasp on the keys and his tirade of punches, mainly landing her in the arm, but soon enough she unhooked the master key set. Leaning over him as she was, Belle then used momentum to forcefully shove D'Arque backwards, and his head connected with the concrete floor.

A shockwave reverberated within his skull, and his eyes blurred for a second, but D'Arque could still see that Belle was scrambling to unsteady feet, keys firmly in hand. With a desperate lunge, D'Arque reached out for her closest leg, intending to trip her up… but his fingertips only just brushed the fabric of her dress. Belle had rushed forward with uneven steps, eyes fixed, unblinking, on the cell door.

D'Arque heard the jingling of keys. The turning of a handle. The rusty creak of an ageing steel door being opened. And another creak, as that same door was being pushed closed again…

Panic shot through D'Arque as he struggled to push himself upright. _No… she can't… she wouldn't dare! _He burst forward, desperate to reach that door before it was too late.

Hands slapped against thick steel, just as a large padlock clicked into place. He _was_ too late. By the smallest of margins…

D'Arque's beady eyes peered through the iron bars of the small slot that was standard on all the asylum doors. Belle stood there still, just outside, glaring back at him. "You'll never get away with this," he hissed at her through iron bars. "You and your father will pay dearly… that I promise you!"

Catching her breath, Belle could not help but grow a small triumphant smile. "Well, dare I say, you will rot forever in this cell?" With those ironic words, Belle turned on her heel and raced off down the corridor, ignoring D'Arque's abusive shouts as she now searched for her father.

"Papa! Papa, where are you?" Belle called out as she ran the distance of the Maison de Lunes' main corridor, her stumbling becoming less frequent as her balance evened out.

Troubled eyes and reaching hands appeared in some barred cell slots as Belle passed by, but she had to ignore them. She only had time to heed one prisoner, and soon enough she found him, his grey-white moustache pressing against the iron bars of his door slot since he had heard his daughter's voice.

"Belle! I'm over here." His voice was hoarse, due to both emotion and the damp, frigid night air.

"Papa!" Belle smiled in relief as she approached the door. "Are you feeling OK?" After asking that question she then began to scrabble with the keys that were still in her possession, hurrying to find the right key to unlock the door to Maurice's cell.

"Me? What about _you? _I've been so worried, ever since I saw them… knock you out…" Maurice looked at his daughter with concerned eyes, his heart feeling heavy.

Still focusing on the lock, Belle quietly replied: "I'm fine, Papa, I've just got a bit of a headache, that's all."

At last, the correct key was found, and the lock clicked open. Belle threw her arms around her father as soon as he emerged from the cell, and he enthusiastically hugged her back. "I… I can't believe Gaston would do this to you…" Maurice said softly, still holding his daughter. "I thought he actually cared for you! That… that beast!"

Belle broke the embrace, determination ablaze in her eyes. "I have to warn Ariel that he's coming… I… I have to protect her!"

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go saddle up Philippe!" Maurice pumped a clenched fist and turned to leave, only to be distracted by Belle's words.

"We, Papa? You're still not…"

"Oh, I'm fine!" Maurice dismissed. "I'll be fine, as long as I'm with you. I'll rug up…"

Belle thought for a moment. "You're right," she soon began, "You'll be safer with me… I don't trust anyone in this town anymore." She glanced back up the corridor towards the cell in which she had imprisoned D'Arque.

Belle took her father's hand, intending to lead him out of the Maison de Lunes. "We have to hurry… Gaston will _not _get away with this!"

* * *

Despite the fact it was now the early hours of the morning, it had been another sleepless night for the castle's inhabitants. Sebastian paced, muttering worriedly. Tip tried to distract himself and Dash with a game of cards, but it simply wasn't working. Scuttle watched the others, uncharacteristically silent.

Shelves upon shelves of books enclosed them—they were situated within the castle library. Nearby, the last traces of a live fire were still evident within the fireplace. Sebastian glanced at the ashes, which bitterly reminded him of Belle.

"Y'know, I thought that human girl was different from the rest. How could she do this?" He suddenly burst into a ramble, pincers crossed firmly in front of him.

"She doesn't know about the spell," Dash solemnly defended. "But I still don't understand why she would leave so suddenly. I thought she liked it here." His voice and expression were both miserable.

"Humans, mon. They cannot be relied on for anything. Hmmph!"

With those words, Sebastian stopped pacing, his face fixed in grumpy glare mode.

"Well… I guess maybe… she had an important reason to leave," Dash offered, not believing that Belle would simply abandon them.

"Stop defending her!" Tip scolded the walrus. "She's gone. She left us… she _left _Ariel!"

Dash seemed almost injured by the words. "But… she… she…"

Faint human voices suddenly disrupted their meeting, however, and all four creatures instantly became shocked and frightened. They raced out of the library and into a darkened adjoining hall, all three but Dash immediately leaping onto nearby windowsills.

The weather had drastically worsened into a blizzard an hour or so before, and the harsh conditions made figures difficult to see.

Sebastian was the first to decipher the blurred figures. Outside, a floor below them and to their left, he could see five human men approaching the castle's front door, brandishing equipment that Sebastian was unfamiliar with. The man that led the humans rode atop a wild but handsome looking jet black steed, and he grasped Ariel's glowing sea-shell encrusted mirror in one hand.

"That guy has the mirror!" Tip gasped, squinting through the frenzied rushes of snow.

Still unable to see clearly, a hopeful Scuttle asked: "Is it Belle?"

Frustrated, Tip snapped at him. "Since when is Belle a guy?"

"We have to warn Ariel!" Sebastian said, his eyes becoming filled with panic. "I'll go," he then decided out loud before ordering the others: "And you do your best to scare off these human invaders!"

"C'mon, blubber boy!" Tip encouraged Dash as he hopped off the ledge to assume his position within the castle's grand foyer. "Let's go squish some humans!"

All too soon, Gaston had barged into the castle's grand foyer himself. Christophe was there alongside him, clutching nervously onto a torch, as were Ramon and two of Gaston's other loyal cronies—the burly bearded man, and the tall, toothless older man, who had both assisted Gaston by restraining a furious Belle hours earlier.

"You four round up those talking sea-creatures," Gaston demanded of his crony mini-army, "while I go and find our little mermaid. She's a pretty thing, isn't she?" He flashed his glistening smile at them cockily before adding, "I'm sure I can convince her to come and work for us."

"CHAAARGE!"

The five men all snapped to attention, peering anxiously into all corners of the room, searching for the bellower.

It was Tip, standing upon the grand foyer staircase's railing, but before the intruding humans discovered the penguin to be the source of the yell, in a speedy flurry that surprised them all, a seagull swooped down, causing them all to duck rapidly.

"Vrrroommm!" Scuttle yelled as he sharply turned through 180°, coming through for another swoop, obviously enjoying himself somewhat.

"AAAK! Was that a… seagull?" Christophe asked, cowering noticeably with his hands upon his head.

Once Scuttle had zipped back past, Gaston shouted, "The nets! Catch it with your nets!"

Almost simultaneously, in a somewhat robotic fashion, the cronies wielded their nets after scrambling inside their backpacks hurriedly and began to swing them, before throwing them haphazardly toward the direction they thought the seagull to be in the vicinity of. Rather clumsily, they all missed, and Scuttle squawked at them in laughter, now completely unseen from his perch atop the railing of the grand staircase, beside Tip.

The cronies had all tried to impress their hero, and they had all failed miserably. Gaston sneered at them and groaned. These wannabes were certainly not anywhere near the same mighty echelon of hunters that he was amongst!

"IDIOTS! It's just a dumb seagull! Catch it, _and_ the others! I want to see some subdued talking sea creatures when I return. Is that clear?" The proud Gaston snarled at them—and the cronies quivered with both fear and guilt.

"_Just a dumb seagull?_" Scuttle repeated to himself, somewhat offended. With those words, he flew off the perch, ready to swoop again. "Vrrroooomm!"

"Aaaaaahhhhh!" The cronies all ducked sheepishly, batting frantically with their hands.

"_Pathetic_," Gaston mumbled, rolling his eyes. Silently, sneakily, he then retreated from the room, unbeknown to his men, Scuttle, or Tip, the penguin still balancing on the grand staircase's railing.

He skulked toward a conjoined hallway, adjacent to the staircase, determined to locate the mysterious mermaid he was certain would aid him in becoming a very rich man.

* * *

Completely oblivious to the commotion that was currently happening in the castle's grand foyer downstairs, Ariel sat silently in her room, upon her comfortable chaise, staring vacantly out the nearest window at the intensifying snowstorm. Almost as though she was in a trance-like state, she would occasionally turn her head sideways to inspect the condition of her enchanted sea-rose, gazing at it also with empty eyes.

It was limp and dying, with merely two purple silken petals still clinging desperately to the stem.

Time seemed to stand still, or perhaps move at blinding speed, for Ariel. All was silent, except for the eerie, howling wind of the current blizzard. The only other sound that Ariel could hear was that of her own breathing, which was sparse and shallow. She knew she not had many breaths as a human left, or consequently, at all.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she was incredibly startled to hear Sebastian's voice pierce through them—wondering indeed if she was in fact only dreaming his presence.

"Excuse me, Ariel…"

"Please go away," she replied, quietly and steadily, without even turning to face the loyal crab. "I want to be alone."

"I know this isn't a good time, princess. But something unthinkable has happened. The castle has been invaded by five human men!"

The words did not register with his beloved princess. She failed to react at all.

"What do you want us to do?" Sebastian tried again to rouse Ariel out of her entranced state, adding more urgency to his voice.

Just weeks ago, Ariel would have been mortified, frozen in terror by the very thought of a single human invading her home, let alone five grown men. But at this time, she cared none. She cared for only one human, and her thoughts concerned only one: Belle. Ariel knew her time on the mortal plane would very soon be over, and she would never see Belle again. Her only comfort, if she could indeed find any, was the memory of the time they had spent together.

"It doesn't matter what you do. Nothing matters anymore. I would just like to be left alone, please."

Sebastian could not believe his princesses' words. He stood there for a moment, gaping, too shocked to move. Then, he sadly turned away, intending to join his three fellow sea creatures in the skirmish on the floor below—he figured it was the very least he could do, despite Ariel's apathy.

As Sebastian scurried downstairs, he knew not that one human was inching closer and closer toward the west wing: Gaston. It was only a matter of time before the rule of elimination led him to Ariel, who was now alone and completely defenceless.

In the grand foyer, Scuttle was still continuing his erratically patterned swooping. "Vrrroom! Vrrrooommm!"

His efforts eventually caused two cronies to crash into each other, face to face, as they hopelessly tried to apprehend him.

Ramon and Christophe had since been distracted by Tip, who had made himself known, descending the staircase toward them.

He stood at their feet, grasping a hand of cards. "Pick a card, any card. You find a black; you're a winner, don't hand it back. Pick a red; you lose, so go home to bed."

Ramon liked the odds. Rudely, he snatched a card abruptly from the talking penguin's fin. To his delighted surprise, it was the Ace of Spades.

"_Ha!_ I win, runt. Now are you gonna let yourself be captured quietly?"

"WHOA! Congratulations," Tip complimented with a beaming beak. "You win… _a brand new walrus!_"

"_Huh?_" Ramon and Christophe grunted in unison. Above them, a large, roundish figure appeared from the staircase's railing.

"YAARRRGHHH!" Dash yelled with enthusiasm, leaping off with gusto. The two men screamed, rushing to not be beneath the quickly plummeting walrus.

Dash did miss them both, but created a tremendous shockwave upon landing, causing both Ramon and Christophe to stumble over.

The other two cronies that the swooping Scuttle had been relentlessly harassing raced over, fear evident on their faces.

"I don't care if they're magical talking sea creatures or what!" Burly, bearded crony said. "They're nuts!"

"Let's get out of here," Christophe meekly added.

Gangly, toothless crony placed a hand on Christophe's shoulder in order to get his attention. "What about Gaston? He'll be furious."

"Gaston is a temperamental guy, I can deal with that. Crazy creatures from the ocean, that I _can't_ deal with!"

"I'm with you," Ramon directed at Christophe as he lead the way back toward the castle's grand front door. "Gaston can take care of this himself. Let's go home!"

With that, the spineless foursome hastily exited the castle's grand foyer in favour of the bitter winds and blanketing snowfall of the outdoors practically immediately, wanting to return home as quickly as possible.

"Another plan, perfectly executed," Tip rubbed his fins together before congratulating his somewhat dazed walrus friend. "Way to go, Dash. Couldn't have done it without 'ya, O Blubbery One."

Dash just grinned in reply, still somewhat winded from his spectacular leap. Nearby, Scuttle was still swooshing to and fro quite rapidly.

"Vrrroomm! VRRROOMMMMM!"

"_Scuttle!_" Tip called out to him. "You can stop now."

Instantly, Scuttle sharply halted in midair, before floating toward the floor and saying, "Heh. I knew that. I was just practising for next time."

Just then, the tiny Sebastian appeared at the top of the grand staircase, surprising them all. "Mon! I'm here and ready for action, mon! These pincers are ready for pinching!" He then snipped his pincers several times in an effort to be intimidating.

"Cool it Seb," Tip began to him, "those humans have already been taken care of."

"We annihilated 'em!" Dash added, finally catching his breath back.

"Oh… really?" Sebastian seemed disappointed that he had missed the fray. "Hmmph. Well, I guess that's good…"

"Yep!" Scuttle chirped brightly, "We sent the four of 'em running outta here like yellow-bellied sea slugs."

"Four?" Sebastian's eyes grew serious as a pincer flew up to his mouth. "But weren't there… _five?_"

* * *

The door to the previously unexplored room within the castle's west wing opened with a subtle creak. Gaston cautiously peered inside, hoping to at last locate the one he was searching for. And this time, he did.

At the far end of the room he saw a girl lying on her side, curled up, upon a chaise lounge. Most of her body could not be seen through the chaise. Her back was to him—Gaston could not see her face.

With a silent, triumphant grin, Gaston prepared his net.

Beginning to swing the netting like a lasso, he brazenly entered the room. Finally reacting now an intrusion was obvious, Ariel lifted her head and turned it slightly, glancing behind her. Her eyes were lined with red as she had recently been crying, and upon seeing Gaston, she merely sighed and heavily rested her head upon the top half of the chaise once more, her eyes gazing forward again.

With a macho yell, Gaston hurled the net. As was to be expected from the competent hunter, it was a direct hit.

Suddenly rousing as her survival instincts took over, Ariel swung her body around and sat upright in one motion, desperately scrambling to dislodge the net from covering her. She managed to succeed, and instantly stood, wanting to bolt for the nearest exit.

But the smarmy Gaston had already stalked toward her, and in a lightening quick motion he brutishly grabbed hold of her arm to prevent her escape.

Alarmed and very frightened, Ariel pulled away frantically, not caring for how much the strain caused her arm to hurt. It would have been impossible for her to escape Gaston's iron-clad grasp had he not looked down and finally noticed that this girl had not a mermaid's fin, but legs.

Shocked, Gaston's grip automatically loosened, and Ariel tripped and tumbled backwards, out of a slightly ajar floor-to-roof cross-sectioned window, thus opening it wide, and crashed onto the snow covered balcony.

Rushes of freezing snow whirled inside the room, and Gaston covered his face momentarily. Gritting his teeth, he then ventured out into the blizzard, wanting answers.

Winded and aching, Ariel rolled over gingerly and strained to reach upward, hoping to grasp onto the balcony's railing so she could pull herself up with more ease.

"No, stay down," Gaston ordered as he stepped nearer to her. Ariel looked up at him with eyes full of terror and despair. Ignoring his orders, she then continued to reach up, her right hand inching closer to the railing.

"I said _stay down_!" Gaston repeated, before callously stomping a boot onto the middle of Ariel's back, forcing her back down, the side of her face slamming into the frosty concrete. She groaned and closed her eyes, feeling utterly powerless.

The moisture from the frigid snow that had settled upon her began to make Ariel's clothes and hair feel soaked, and this combined with the sensation of the harsh concrete surface pressed against her face aided in her entire body beginning to feel numb.

Gaston towered over, grinning victoriously.

"What do you want?" Ariel asked, her voice nearly a whisper.

"For you to tell me the truth, 'mermaid'."

"How do you know…?" Ariel could barely comprehend what was happening. She stopped mid-sentence, not caring to finish it. She lowered her face as low into the snow as possible, catching sight of her wilted sea-rose out of the corner of her eye.

Gaston stroked his masculine, chiselled chin. "Well, I know first hand that the talking sea-creatures are real. So you must have been a mermaid at some point, right? Which means your story, at least, would still be worth a fortune. Provided those idiots have captured your friends downstairs…"

Ariel shut her eyes tightly, not bothering to struggle. It was pointless. She only hoped to die before the spell upon her ended, perhaps from overexposure to the freezing temperatures or perhaps this man would kill her for not having her mermaid's tail. At least that way, if her loyal sea friends had not been captured, this cruel human could not profit from her body—or so she thought.

"Please, leave my friends alone… don't harm them…" was all she managed to say, barely audible. Needless to say, the plea was ignored.

With his free foot, Gaston lifted up the ends of Ariel's dress, somewhat sleazily. "Hmmm. So, will your fin be returning soon? Because the sooner you get it back, the better it will be… for both of us."

At those words, Ariel opened her eyes and stared, sadly and bitterly, to her side, where she could easily see her enchanted sea-rose, only several feet away inside her bedroom. The irony of this cruel man's words was not lost on her.

She then closed her eyes again tightly, a small frown forming upon her face.

Unbeknownst to Ariel, Gaston had quietly armed his hunting gun, which had been strapped to his back, and he stood over her still, wielding it.

"Something tells me you're not likely to come quietly. So this is just to make things easier, so you won't struggle…"

Aiming at the back of Ariel's head with the gun's thicker handle end, Gaston raised the gun high, intending to render her unconscious with it.


	14. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

**"Unlikely Rivals"**

With the whirly wintry winds blustering in random directions with changing speeds all around him, Gaston had not heard the footsteps of another stealthily but rapidly approach him from behind. His heart almost jumped through his chest when he suddenly felt two hands clasp around his as he poised his hunting gun in midair, ready to strike. They clamped heavily, from behind him, as if all weight had been placed upon them.

Unsure of what or who to expect, Gaston turned his body around slowly. When he realised who his opponent was, his pale blue eyes grew wide, his clefted chin fell open in shock.

"Belle…?"

Belle said nothing in reply. She glared at him with the fiercest gaze she could manage, her bronze eyes burning with anger and disgust. In truth, Gaston was unnerved a little—he would never have imagined that Belle was capable of exhibiting such a facial expression, least of all at him, despite the fact that he thoroughly deserved it.

Gaston had dawdled during his journey toward the castle, stopping to have a drink with his friends and brag about what he intended to do with all the riches capturing the mermaid would ensure him, at least until the weather had worsened. On the other hand, Belle, with Maurice and Cheeky in tow, had commanded the loyal Phillipe to race to the castle at break-neck speed, therefore she had managed to apprehend Gaston in time.

In spite of the howling wind, Ariel had heard Gaston murmur Belle's name, and instantly her eyes sprang open and she glanced up in hopeful joy, then relief, when she realised that Belle indeed had returned to halt this brutish man.

"Get the hell away from her," Belle said in a voice as cold as the gelid, snow-filled air.

Before the astonished Gaston could answer or plan a movement of any kind, Belle sharply twisted his arms downward and behind his back, causing a sharp pain to shoot up the hunter's brawny limbs.

Gaston broke forward and spun around, managing to maintain grip of his gun, but he did not have enough time to prepare himself for Belle's next attack. In another lightening quick motion, she grabbed his collar roughly with both hands, manhandling him, before forcing his head and upper body backwards over the balcony's edge with a rush of adrenalin.

Gaston was so taken aback that he dropped his hunting gun onto a section of roof jutting out just below them, a panicked grimace now evident upon his face.

The moisture from the blizzard's raging snowfall had slicked the roof, not to mention the balcony's ledge, and a frantic Gaston soon slid backward over that ledge, crashing onto the same section of roof that his gun had previously landed upon, the muscular man colliding with the snowy concrete tiles heavily.

Belle leapt over the balcony railing immediately, landing deftly upon her feet very near to where Gaston had just crash-landed.

Scrambling, his fingers finding difficulty in attaining grip, Gaston seized his trusted weapon, lunging upward and forward in a diagonal motion as he did so.

Although he was fuming, he did not, at this time, intend to harm Belle seriously, but he did wish to startle her and gain the upper hand.

Somehow, Belle managed to stand her ground, just, clasping the gun with both hands as it zoomed horizontally toward her, Gaston's weight forcing her backward significantly.

She groaned, struggling to in turn force him backward, but there was no way she could possibly match his immense strength—not to mention his body weight, which was close to double that of hers.

Instead, having quickly noticed how close Gaston's feet were to the edge of this particular section of roof, Belle struck out with her right leg, landing her right boot squarely into Gaston's abdomen, and he stumbled backward, before losing his footing completely and slipping off the roof's edge. Slamming his torso into the roof's angled side, he clutched desperately onto the slippery roof tiles and groaned in pain.

With a quick glance downward, he realised that if he were to let go, he would remain relatively unharmed, as another balcony that extended from the enormous castle waited not too far below for him.

And with a furious Belle storming toward him, Gaston decided it was in his best interests to indeed let go.

He landed quite adequately, his knees bending a little, only minimal pain occurring from the impact. Fastening his grip on the hunting gun, he glanced skyward to search the section of roof just above him—but Belle could no longer be seen.

He thought of calling out to her, trying to calm her rampaging mood, but before he had a chance to conjure anything relevant to say, Gaston did finally see movement—that of a cracked and decrepit marble statue beginning to topple forward, and toward him. From behind it, Belle was pushing the waist-high gargoyle-style carving with all of her strength, and soon enough the base of the ageing marble statue gave way, the statue hurtling downward with frightening speed.

With a cry, he leapt out of harm's way, his heart pounding furiously, his breathing heavy and quick.

The brittle statue shattered into innumerable fragments upon impact, the sound of its demise loud and startling.

Sweeping wet hair from out of her eyes, Ariel, now standing upon her balcony, strained to watch from above, a gasp catching in her throat as she heard the tremendous crash of the marble statue.

Equally concerned, Maurice tried to decipher what was happening from far below, along with Cheeky, both still upon Phillipe's great back. But the blizzard made it almost impossible to see into such a distance, and the old man feared gravely for his cherished daughter's life.

After a moment, once his breathing steadied, Gaston shouted to his unseen foe: "This is crazy! Are you trying to kill me, Belle? _I don't want to hurt __you__!_"

"Well that explains my thumping headache," Belle muttered to herself, still concealed behind another marble statue a floor above Gaston. Despite her actions and in contradiction to Gaston's ideas, she did not wish to kill Gaston. Belle could never have killed anyone intentionally, least of all in such a calculated way. In truth, she had not realised how close Gaston had been to the statue's projected crash path. She merely wanted him to leave her, and Ariel, well alone.

Of course, Belle did not hear Gaston mumble, as an afterthought, the sinister words: "_Doesn't mean I won't…_"

In the midst of a particular harsh whirl of bitter snow, Belle jumped down onto the balcony below her, landing gracefully on both feet, her hooded cloak billowing out behind her.

Gaston, startled as she suddenly appeared before him, could only stare for a moment. Belle returned his gaze for a long time, as rushes of snow blitzed past and whistling winds howled all around.

"I don't see why you're so against this," Gaston finally began, now wishing to attempt to talk Belle out of her enraged mood. "I can help you become very rich. You can have everything you've ever dreamed of… The finest clothes. A larger house—a palace, if you want. A new… a new… ummm… What's that thing you play?"

"Violin," Belle answered, her face softening none.

"Yeah. One of those." He lowered his gun and relaxed his stance slightly, not eager for the fight to continue.

Belle scoffed with a bitter laugh. "Not everyone cares about money and worldly possessions. Some things are more important…"

"You mean… like status?" Gaston asked, with shallow validity.

Giving nothing but a frustrated sigh in response, Belle shook her head.

Dropping his guard even further, Gaston glanced away in thought, pondering what could possibly be more important than money and status.

And this was exactly the complacency that Belle was waiting for.

Clenching her fist tightly, she suddenly burst forward, intending to punch Gaston square in the jaw. But the experienced Gaston reacted quickly, grabbing Belle's arm in the midst of it being outstretched, before roughly throwing her into a nearby wall.

Belle groaned in pain as she slammed into the concrete, the impact only worsening her headache. A little winded, she clutched her chest with one hand, her aching brow with the other.

"I did say I didn't _want_ to hurt you," Gaston remarked as he slowly strode toward her. "But you're determined to not give me a choice."

Belle only glared at him in reply.

"You can't win this, Belle. You're supposed to be my wife, not my rival!"

_I'm not supposed to be your anything_!

He was close now, too close for Belle's liking. She backed up against the wall as much as possible, her mind racing to find her next course of action.

But before she had a chance to invent something, Gaston's gun-wielding left hand darted out, the metal weapon firmly pinning her against the sleet-covered brick. In a rapid motion, his right hand then lunged for Belle's neck, and he held her in a stranglehold.

"Come now, enough of this bickering," Gaston's tone was chillingly calm, in contradiction to his violent action. He tightened his grasp on her throat, and Belle began to gasp as he strengthened his choking clutch.

"I gave you your chance. Now we're going to have to do things my way." As he spoke, Gaston pressed his body firmly into Belle's. "You are mine… and so is your mermaid friend. Understood?"

Belle didn't reply. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing.

"_Understood?_" Gaston repeated, tightening the chokehold even more so. Belle moaned in pain, her airway nearly completely obstructed.

After a brief silence, she gasped: "Yes."

Gaston smiled at her with a mixture of menacing and cockiness. "Good." At last he let her go, and Belle immediately grasped her own throat in relief, inhaling deeply. Her eyes stared downward for a long time; all the while she remained completely silent. She was certainly not planning to concede defeat as yet, even if Gaston had been fooled into thinking that she had.

Her eyes were still focused upon the mounting snow of the concrete tiles beneath her feet when Gaston let his gun fall softly onto the ground, before moving to grip both of her shoulders with his mighty hands. Then, he pulled her to him for a forced kiss. Belle's first instinct was naturally to shove him off, but at this time she remained still, hoping he did not intend to hold her lips hostage for too long.

Eventually, Gaston pulled back, Belle failing to look at him as he did so. "We could be quite a team," he began, taking a step backward to finally give Belle some personal space. He then straightened his posture and outstretched his hand with the intention of a pact.

"No more fighting this," he continued to Belle, who still averted her gaze, "no more fighting _us_. Come, agree to this now, and I promise we'll split the profits of our mermaid venture fifty/fifty."

Belle glanced up at his powerful, gloved hand, then further upward and into his ice-blue eyes. Without a word, she placed her hand in his, gripping it tightly.

But before Gaston had the chance to smile an arrogant, triumphant smile, Belle's right knee flew up, and with precision she forcefully kneed him in the groin.

With an agonised scream that could well be heard over the howling blizzard, Gaston instantly fell to his knees, both hands now clutching his injured manhood.

With an expression of intense pain visible upon his face, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, Gaston leaned forward, gasping for oxygen.

Like quicksilver, in one rapid, fluid motion, Belle swooped to seize the nearby hunting gun for herself. Gaston sensed her actions, and automatically spun his body around so his back was to the balcony's surface.

His wide eyes directly met the large circular barrel of his very own hunting gun.

"No… no! You couldn't!" Gaston's bottom lip quivered as he pleaded for his life. "Please! I'm sorry Belle, please believe me! _I'm sorry!_"

Belle scowled at him for a long moment, as she stood ominously over him, her finger near the gun's trigger. She thought of all the consternation he had caused her, of all the times he had harassed her, of all the innuendos and finally, she thought of how, only moments ago, _he_ was poised to harm _her_.

Before long however, Belle's facial expression softened. She knew she was nothing alike the malicious Gaston, that the cruel nature of what she seemed to be contemplating was not something she ever wished to be capable of.

With a slight shake of her head, Belle hurled the gun far over the roof's edge.

As if responding to Belle's mood, the weather began to calm, as the howling winds lessened and the falling snow eased.

Gaston exhaled deeply. "Whoa Belle, you had me worried there. But I knew you didn't have it in you."

"_Shut up!_" Belle scolded him. "You pitiful man. You really have no idea, do you?"

Gaston could only stare at her in stunned silence. Finally, he asked: "What do you mean?"

Belle sharply turned away, her face almost crimson with anger. "Don't say another word, Gaston. Just leave, and don't even consider returning. I don't _ever_ want to see your face _again!_"

Before Gaston even had the time to become angered and attempt to retaliate, a voice from above distracted both of them.

"_Belle!_"

Belle spun around, pushing a wayward section of damp, wavy hair away from her face as she did so. She looked up, and could not help but begin to smile; her mind instantly forgetting about the conquered Gaston.

"Ariel…?"

The storm was beginning to clear, and Ariel could now see below her, into the distance with ease, just as simply as Belle could see Ariel standing on her balcony, above.

_Thank goodness you're alright,_ Ariel thought to herself as she leaned over the balcony railing and outstretched her right hand, beckoning for Belle to come to her.

With a sweet smile, Belle instantly began to navigate her way back up toward Ariel's balcony cautiously, taking care not to lose her footing on the slippery roof tiles. Snow still fell, but much gentler now. The winds had all but died, with only a fresh zephyr softly blowing across the castle's exterior. Belle's voice was a whisper, as the wind now was, as she said to herself: "Ma petite sirene…"

Gaston, still in considerable pain, slowly sat up. He watched with intrigue as Belle inched closer and closer to the awaiting Ariel. Teeth gritted as he tentatively rose to his feet, Gaston decided to silently skulk behind Belle, his mind overwhelmed with a mixture of anger, determination, and curiosity.

"Belle…" Ariel sighed this time as Belle's hand finally locked with hers. Gazing at her adoringly, Ariel then helped the exhausted Belle over the railing and onto the balcony alongside her.

Belle's face was pale, her hair messy. Her eyes seemed dim, and she appeared almost ready to collapse.

But when she smiled her endearing dimpled smile, Ariel believed she was the most enchanting sight one could ever imagine.

"You came back," Ariel said, her voice barely above a whisper, as she affectionately placed a hand on Belle's shoulder.

Belle shook her head slightly, drawing Ariel close to her with both hands. "No… I came home."

"I thought I'd never get to see you again." With these words, Ariel gently shifted her hand from Belle's shoulder up to her face, before lovingly stroking Belle's cheek.

Her exhaustion was instantly forgotten as Belle felt a wave of electricity course through her body from the sensation of Ariel's tender touch. For a brief moment, she was paralysed, unable to even blink as she stared into Ariel's luminous, welcoming eyes.

She was only roused to reality when Ariel murmured the concerned words: "Belle, you… you really don't look so good."

With a soft laugh, Belle rolled her eyes. "That's always a pleasure to hear."

Ariel also managed a gentle laugh, her thumb still caressing Belle's warm cheek. "You know what I mean."

Gaston was only several feet away, below them, but failed to hear the conversation. The girls were talking far too quietly. _What are they saying? _He strained his neck to listen, his eyes fixed on them with hardened intensity. He could glimpse both their faces, their enticing female forms side-on from the angle of his viewpoint.

Ariel was closest to the balcony's railing, her back turned to it. Their body language seemed incomprehensible to the gawking young hunter. How lost they were in each other's gaze, how close their bodies were… how close their faces were. _Close enough to_…

Ariel bit her bottom lip. She could feel her heart rate quicken. _Do it!_ The words raced over and over in her mind. Raising her other hand to Belle's corresponding free cheek, Ariel slowly closed her eyes and leaned forward.

For one of the few times in her life, Belle's mind became blank. She could only succumb to the kiss, a kiss she too had wanted to eventuate for so long. Her eyes closed as she felt a knot of anticipation form in her stomach. Her hands rested tentatively upon Ariel's hips, and her heart rested entirely in Ariel's possession, as she knew now it always would.

At last, their lips met. The kiss was slow, achingly slow, careful, heartfelt. The pair became oblivious to the existing world around them once their soft, warm lips pressed, their minds filled only with thoughts of each other. They were alone, totally alone, wrapped in an enchanting snow-covered silence. Nothing and no-one else mattered.

But in harsh reality, they were not alone. A single pair of eyes witnessed the trepid but soulful kiss being shared.

On the snowy roof tiles below, Gaston stood and stared. After a brief moment of awed shock, the stark truth hit the young man like a deluge of cannonballs, crushing him.

_Belle is in love with another woman_.

He grimaced in disgust, as a turbulent mixture of emotions infused him to act. Gaston was humiliated that Belle would prefer another female over himself, whilst also being revolted by the very idea. Not to mention the fact that he was also seethingly jealous.

Forgotten completely was his earlier notion of capturing the mermaid and her talking sea creature friends for the sake of a money-making prospect. He now had only one thought on his mind: revenge.

Outraged, Gaston wanted justice. Fetching a hidden dagger from within his boot, he proceeded to carefully climb closer. His jaw was clenched, his eyes ablaze. _HOW DARE SHE_.

Hopelessly lost in each other, in the meaningful kiss that they shared, neither Ariel nor Belle knew the young hunter was still present… that he now knew the truth. Dreamily content, Ariel sighed inwardly, before allowing her head to tilt slightly, wishing for the kiss to grow deeper.

But their loving embrace was far too short lived.

Ariel wrenched back suddenly as a far more powerful sensation overtook her. Belle's eyes sprang open in alarm at the sound of Ariel releasing an ear-piercing scream.

The callous Gaston had plunged his dagger deeply into Ariel's side, puncturing organs. Instantly a river of crimson flowed from the wound, as Ariel lurched forward to clutch tightly onto the material of Belle's clothes for support.

Gaston, one hand grasping onto the balcony railing as he balanced behind it, cleanly removed the weapon. Uncertain of his next move, he could only stare at Belle, as he panted through gritted teeth. A significant part of him wanted to harm Belle also, thrust the knife deep into her, preferably straight through her heart. But he waited, wanting to witness her reaction before he decided her fate.

At first, Belle could only stare in shock and confusion at Ariel's pain-distorted face. Gradually, her eyes shifted to notice Gaston looming behind Ariel, holding aloft the blood-covered dagger. He glared at Belle, his cold, blue eyes menacing and full of unforgiving hatred.

Belle only stared vacantly in return, her mouth slightly agape.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Gaston shouted, pointing his dagger at Belle now, coaxing her to react.

In a sudden flash, Belle's eyes burned with rage. Her teeth clenched. With a fierce, thoughtless movement, she shoved Gaston in the middle of his muscular chest with as much strength as she could manage, whilst screaming at the top of her lungs: "NOOO!"

Aided by pulsating adrenaline and gravity, the force of Belle's push was enough to send Gaston violently backwards. It was now his turn to scream.

"AAAAHHHH-!"

He plummeted from the castle roof, arms flailing like a windmill. The castle's exterior whizzed past him in a blur as his mind filled with panic.

Soon enough, his mind thought of nothing at all. His scream remained as an echo for sometime after he had hurtled to his doom.

After the last heard evidence of Gaston's life faded into oblivion, an eerie silence filled the snowy air.

Belle stared at the vacant balcony edge where Gaston had just been. For a second, just a short moment, she felt overwhelmed by the reality of what had just happened. _I… I killed him_…

But this, along with everything else that had transpired, with any other thought that dare enter her mind, became meaningless to Belle as she felt Ariel slowly sinking away from her embrace, Ariel's knees buckling inward.

Readjusting her grasp so Ariel could lower no further, Belle glanced around in distraught panic. Quickly noticing that Ariel's lush canopy bed was not too far away, easily accessible back inside her castle bedroom, Belle gently aided Ariel over to the comfort of the bed.

Ariel winced, gritting her teeth as she struggled to cope with the immense pain from her wound. Knowing Belle was being as careful as possible, Ariel fought the need to vocalise her pain, not wanting any gasp or moan to escape as this would only upset Belle more so.

As Belle slowly eased Ariel down onto her bed, Sebastian, Scuttle, Tip and Dash gathered just inside the bedroom door, watching in woe and heartbreak at the sight of their fallen princess.

Directly opposite the creatures, far across the room, the enchanted purple flower of the sea that indicated when the spell upon Ariel was to be ended had left only a single, silken petal. None of the quartet noticed this, however—their saddened eyes were all focused solely on Ariel.

Belle sat on the edge of the cushy bed, her body bent forward, her arms cradling Ariel's limp form.

Ariel's breathing was becoming more and more erratic, and she finally let free a groan. Her head sank heavily to one side, resting against Belle's arm, that arm itself leaning upon one of Ariel's frilly edged pillows.

"Ariel…" Belle whispered her name, replaying in her mind the scene that had happened moments earlier on the balcony… Ariel pulling backwards as she screamed. Gaston's blood covered knife, his hateful words. The sound of his scream as he plunged to his death…

Belle wished, with every fibre of her being, that is was she who took the dagger in the side. That she had been closest to the balcony's edge… _Why didn't that bastard stab me instead? It __should__ have __been __me_!

"Belle…?" Ariel managed to murmur through uneven gasps, her eyes closed. At the sound of Ariel's voice, Belle banished her macabre, guilt-ridden thoughts. Tenderly, she placed her free hand upon Ariel's down turned cheek and slowly lifted her head, so she was squarely facing Belle.

"It's OK Ariel," Belle soothed in a cracked whisper, "I'm right here."

Ariel's eyes at last fluttered open upon feeling Belle's gentle touch. She glanced up with those eyes, those usually sparkling, vibrant eyes full of adventurousness and wonder now appearing dull and glazed over. She managed a weak smile, clutching onto Belle's arm for comfort.

"You… you came back… just like you said you would…" Ariel struggled to speak, her voice quivering and barely audible, her life force continuing to drain away. "You're… you're not too late… I thought… I wouldn't get the chance to tell you…"

Belle placed a finger to Ariel's soft lips, signalling for her to become silent, to save her strength. She smiled warmly at Ariel for a long moment, but was unable to stop her eyes from becoming filled with tears.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay… here with you… always…" After she spoke those words, Belle placed her free hand up to her brow, and firmly shut her eyes, as if she was suffering from the onset of a migraine. "Oh, this is all my fault… I'm so sorry, Ariel…" She opened her eyes once more, leaning forward to embrace Ariel tightly, before repeating in an anguished whisper: "I'm so sorry."

Letting her forehead rest against Ariel's, Belle let out a weary, despondent sigh. A single tear escaped her moistened eyes to trickle slowly down her cheek.

Frowning for a moment at what Belle had just said, Ariel then managed to quietly argue: "Don't… don't be stupid. This isn't… your fault." Focusing all of her strength so she could form a silly smile, she then stuttered: "Stupid… stupid know-it-all… human."

Belle couldn't help but smile faintly, despite her tears. "That's me."

Ariel sighed, gazing deeply into Belle's glistening eyes. She desperately wanted to provide Belle with emotional comfort, to ease her sorrow. Swallowing hard, Ariel chose her next words carefully.

"Belle… please… please don't cry. You must… know something… You must know I… was going to die anyway."

Belle pulled back suddenly, becoming very visibly upset. "What? What are you talking about?"

Ariel blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy. "I'd much rather… it like this. With you here…" She flickered a tiny smile, hoping that Belle could find comfort, any ounce of comfort, in those words.

Indeed, Ariel was actually grateful to be facing her mortality in this circumstance. She had envisioned a wretchedly slow, lingering death for herself once she was to return to mermaid form, doomed never to see Belle again, to hear her voice… To put the suffering upon her loyal sea friends as they watched her gradually wither away, unable to help, knowing all along that this was to come, but helpless to prevent it.

For her death to be by the hands of another, to be quicker, to have Belle with her… it was somehow wonderful. Heart wrenching still, but wonderful.

"No, Ariel," Belle began slowly, her voice shaky, her tears flowing freely now, "you're not going to die…" Obviously in denial, Belle was most likely trying to convince herself of the truth in those words more so than Ariel. "You're not going to die… You can't! I… I need you…"

She leaned in again, running her hand gently through Ariel's thick auburn hair once their foreheads met. Knowing death was now very near, Ariel angled her chin forward, wishing for a goodbye kiss. With sorrow becoming evident in her voice also, Ariel softly whispered: "Belle… just… just hold me…" before her trembling lips met Belle's.

For Belle, this moment was the definition of bittersweet. She stroked Ariel's silky hair again, her mind becoming hazy as she lost herself in the kiss.

As the embrace lingered, Belle pressed her body against Ariel's as lightly as possible. With one of her last conscious thoughts, Ariel was certain she could feel the beating of Belle's heart against her own chest.

Wanting, desperately hoping that this kiss would last forever, it was all too soon that Belle felt Ariel's sweet lips pull away, her head sink heavily back against Belle's arm.

A tiny smile was just noticeable upon Ariel's pretty face as she sighed her final breath, her eyes locked with Belle's for their final glance.

Then, Ariel's head fell sharply to the side. Her eyes became closed.

Her face streaked with tears, Belle gazed at Ariel for a long moment, her eyes filled with panic, sorrow, soul-destroying heartbreak.

For the silent sea creatures nervously watching, Belle's mournful expression as she stared down at Ariel's still body lying upon the bed made the raw reality of the situation far too perfectly clear.

Ariel was gone.


	15. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

**"A Human's Love"**

The air had become still. The snow continued to fall, but much gentler now. Only mere moments ago, a violent blizzard had raged, its flurries making it difficult to see clearly, as the icy wind had made breathing a trial.

But now, all was calm. The blanket of white had settled into place, draping all it covered in peaceful repose.

Conversely, no matter how tranquil the atmosphere outside seemed to be, inside the stone walls of the lavishly decorated Master Bedroom that had often been the mermaid princess' sanctuary, the ambience was bleak, mournful and deathly quiet.

Belle felt as if she could not breathe, her chest tight and tensed. She could only stare, her mouth caught slightly open in a silent gasp, as her stinging eyes tried to fathom what they gazed upon.

Ariel's features were ghastly pale, the colour having drained from her face. Her flesh was practically white; a lavender hue tinged her lips.

The stinging sensation in her eyes intensified, so Belle opted to slowly blink them shut. Gently, if not mindlessly, she shifted upon Ariel's bed, lowering her head to rest, sideways, upon Ariel's chest.

Her eyes remaining tightly closed, Belle hoped against all hope that she could hear, no matter how faint, a heartbeat. However, the only rhythmic pulse that could be heard was that of her own, pounding against her left ear.

There, she remained, silent, motionless. The haze of shock had not yet lifted. She felt almost entirely numb; no weight registered against the arm that still cradled Ariel's head… she did not know, nor care, whether her own lungs still functioned as they should, inhaling and exhaling. The only sensation she did feel, the only areas still awake to touch, were that of her left cheek and ear, resting heavily against Ariel's chest.

The loyal sea creatures, still cluttering the bedroom's threshold, were also rigidly hushed. Their eyes were all filled with tears, their expressions all exhibiting shattered grief.

Sebastian, though, was the only one gazing directly at the two figures that lay upon the extravagant canopy bed. He was the only one to see the gradual and silent transformation of Ariel's legs back to their original state: that of a mermaid's tail.

But this tail did not glitter with the vibrant colours of life. It was dull, insipid, its aqua scales speckled with grey.

Immediately, Sebastian assumed that the spell upon Ariel must have finally ended. His eyes automatically trailed to the enchanted sea-flower, positioned not too far across the room from his princesses' bed.

His eyes grew wide in surprise, however, upon noticing that a single purple petal still clung desperately to the flower's stalk.

"What?" He whispered to himself, his brow creasing in confusion. "I… I don't understand…"

Tip, Dash and Scuttle had all heard the crab's murmur, and gave him their attention.

"What is it?" Dash asked gently.

With a trembling pincer, Sebastian pointed to the sea-flower, still housed under its glass bell jar. "I don't get it… why… why has her tail returned?"

The others surveyed the scene, glancing back and forth between the shimmering purple flower and Ariel's lifeless tail.

Scuttle could only shrug, his expression still one of misery. Tip, also speaking in a near inaudible tone as Sebastian and Dash had previously, tried his best to offer an explanation.

"Well… I guess it's because… I mean, she's returned to her true form upon… dying." The last word had been preceded by a short exhalation of breath; Tip then fell silent, his jet black fins stiffly flanking his sides.

Dash nodded, the actual movement quite minimal. "Yeah… I guess that's… that's the nature of the magic."

It was a strained conversation; practically meaningless, inane. It could not change the fact that their beloved princess was deceased, or offer them any comfort whatsoever.

With a low, heavy sigh, Sebastian now fixed his attention upon the slumped, broken human. Witnessing now the extent of Belle's loyalty and heartbreak, he felt tremendous guilt for berating her to his colleagues in the library earlier.

He took a step forward, wishing to offer some comfort, _any _comfort, to the human girl.

But as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden sob startled him.

Belle's silence was breaking, as reality began to pierce through her almost catatonic state of shock. She gasped in some air, before letting free several more sobs, louder and more desperate than the first.

Sebastian lowered his head and closed his mouth, feeling useless, as he realised there was nothing he could say to offer any condolence.

Belle could feel the hot, wet tears streaking down her face now. She blinked open her eyes, gazing out toward the lazily falling snow.

"No… no…" she whimpered, the fingers of her right hand clutching onto the fabric of Ariel's blouse tightly. "It… it should have been me… I… I'm so sorry…"

The gasping sobs continued, as the grief steadily became more overwhelming, threatening to drown the shattered young woman. "Please… please don't leave me, Ariel. I…" Belle swallowed a painful lump of sorrow and shut her eyes once more. "I love you."

After those tender words were softly spoken, the wind picked up again for a brief instant, as if exhaling a despondent sigh for Belle's lamentation.

Then, the chilled air was silent. The snow gradually halted. All that could be heard were the partially muffled sounds of Belle's continued weeping.

Sebastian had had his eyes closed for several moments. He wished, so desperately, that this was all a terrible nightmare. That once he opened his eyes again, Ariel would be sitting up, smiling at him, wondering why he and the others looked so morose and concerned.

He slowly blinked his heavy eyelids open, hoping now to witness a different reality. Instead, what he saw, equally as surprising, was a glittering purple haze beginning to fill the room. Instantly his eyes landed upon the enchanted sea-flower—the source of this ethereal mist. It flowed out of the remaining violet petal, permeating the glass bell jar, and snaked its way into the atmosphere like a magical cloud of smoke.

The other sea creatures, standing just behind the stunned crustacean, had noticed it too. They all stared, mouths gaping, minds racing, as the shimmering haze manoeuvred towards the canopy bed where their lost princess lay.

Sebastian could not help but let escape a startled gasp, and no matter how subtle the sound from the tiny crab had been, it was enough to alert Belle into opening her tear-filled eyes.

At first, she thought her watering eyes must be deceiving her. Blinking several times, Belle slowly straightened herself into a sitting position. Yet the haze still approached, alarming Belle into action. She stumbled forward from the bed, turned around, and backed toward the balcony window, her expression a mixture of awe and confusion.

She watched, unblinking and silently, as the sparkling purple vapour settled upon Ariel's still form, wrapping itself around the mermaid, ensconcing her in a blanket of mystical shimmers.

With a sudden gust of wind that somehow originated from within the room, Ariel began to rise into the air, slowly, evenly, her body remaining parallel to the bed. It was then Belle noticed for the first time that from underneath Ariel's emerald green peasant dress, a mermaid's tail had replaced her human feet. Belle's hand flew up to her mouth, which fell open in a silent gasp. There was no way for her to comprehend what was happening; all she could do was remain stationary and gape in shock.

With a blinding flash of brilliant purple light that caused Belle to squint her eyes, the magical haze illuminated the tip of Ariel's tail, her caudal fin. This concentrated light appeared to then slice upward through the tail, dividing it in two. The scales began to sparkle in the same shimmering manner of the purple mist, before slowly disappearing. Belle could barely believe her eyes—the tail was reforming back into human legs! She pressed her back up against the balcony window in a cautious manner, unsure of what to expect next.

Once her legs had completely returned, the purple wrap of mystical droplets gradually drifted up Ariel's body. As it traced over the fatal gash in her side, the tiny violet sparkles healed it completely, making it appear as if the knife wound had never occurred. Then, the ethereal light continued upward still, returning air to Ariel's lungs, colour to her cheeks… it was breathing life into her, renewing and re-energising every cell within her body.

Another gust of wind arose, flowing through Ariel's once again thick and magnificent hair, and the droplets of purple mist, their work now done, began to dissipate. With the first exhalation of Ariel's breath, the magical mist had vanished entirely.

Ariel slowly descended back toward her bed, rejuvenated; reborn. Her eyes were still closed, and for a moment she wished to concentrate on learning how to breathe again.

Belle had still failed to move at all, remaining pressed up against the balcony window with a dumbfounded expression upon her face. She was scared, _terrified_, that this was somehow a trick her grief-stricken mind was playing upon her. More than anything, she wished this to be real—Ariel's resurrection—but it all seemed so… unbelievable. Incredible. _Impossible_.

Soon, Ariel felt ready to open her eyes. She blinked carefully, allowing them time to adjust into focus. She was flat on her back, her head back upon her comfortable pillow, her eyes gazing now at her bedroom ceiling. Before very long, with her instincts as much as her eyesight, she sensed Belle to her left.

Ariel turned her head fractionally, before gingerly sitting up and shifting her body sideways so as to be facing Belle. Her legs now resting over the bed's side, she frowned slightly upon noticing Belle's troubled facial expression. Rising to unsteady feet, she gazed tenderly at Belle, wanting to banish any and all of her worries. As Belle's confusion eased, her stance and expression relaxing, Ariel slowly formed a sweet smile.

Belle couldn't help but smile her own smile now, as her heart flooded with hope and relief. Taking a tentative step forward, she said, practically in a whisper: "Ariel…?"

Ariel took her own careful step forward, nodding gently as she did so.

"You… you're all right!" Belle's voice grew a little louder, her smile wider.

"Yeah," Ariel replied, her voice soft and tinged with her own confusion.

Belle moved closer still, unable to stop beaming. "But… but _how_?"

Ariel glanced down, her smile fading as her brow creased in contemplation. In all honesty, she did not know. She searched her mind, her memory, for answers. She cast her mind back to her last conscious thoughts… She could remember Belle's presence, her warmth. She remembered feeling content, despite her pain, as she knew how much Belle cared. She felt protected, safe, cherished… she felt…

… _Loved…_

It dawned upon her with a sudden clarity, like a distant horizon becoming visible as sunbeams warded off the mist. Her head turned sharply to the right, searching for the enchanted sea-flower. When last she saw it, it was shrivelled, dying, with a single petal left. But now… now it was in vibrant full bloom, its petals lush as they were plentiful. It was no longer suspended magically in mid air; it lay upon the table, its appearance that of an ordinary, everyday flower, its mystical shimmer all but gone.

An ecstatic, appreciative smile grew upon Ariel's face as she gazed up at Belle once more. She reached up to affectionately stroke Belle's cheek, whispering the words: "Because of you."

Of course, this failed to help Belle understand at all. She could only return Ariel's intense gaze, her brow furrowing slightly at Ariel's somewhat cryptic explanation.

There were so many questions Belle wanted to ask, so many things she wanted to say. She wanted to know what she had done, how she had performed this miracle, and at the same time she wanted to express her utter joy, her relief, that Ariel was still alive. Such an overwhelming mixture of intense emotions flooded her, it rendered her speechless, not to mention incapable of moving.

She was about to open her mouth to speak, not even knowing what words would come out, if any… when suddenly, Ariel's lips were upon hers.

Instantly, the warm contact caused Belle's mind to melt into silence. She did not respond for a moment; she was stunned, paralysed. Until it was realised that this was best way, the _only_ way, to truly express the tumultuous jumble of feelings she was experiencing...

It seemed for an eon that she was motionless, but in fact, it was mere seconds. Then, her heart racing but her mind becoming serene, she kissed Ariel back with a passion that rather surprised herself.

They were both intent on losing themselves in a lingering embrace, not caring about whom or what may be nearby, their bodies pressing together firmly as the fervent clinch endured…

…When a lumbering weight bumped clumsily into Belle's legs, causing her to pull back suddenly, her face a combination of alarm and disappointment.

It was Dash, of course, she knew that instantly. He and the other sea creatures had been watching in silent awe for many moments, their gaping mouths slowly turning upward as they realised Ariel was in fact, alive. Finally snapping out of their collective stupor, they had rushed over, jubilant and relieved beyond words.

Ariel glanced down to see Sebastian climbing upon one of her now-permanent feet. "Oh, this whole saga has taken years off my life, I can tell you mon," he sighed happily as he grinned up at his princess.

Dash was smiling guiltily at Belle, and Tip stood between the two humans, one fin resting on them both. He tapped Belle's well-worn work boot and coolly said: "You're OK kid, you're OK."

Belle couldn't help but feel under whelmed by Tip's "compliment". "Uhh, thanks Tip," she sighed, growing a lopsided smile.

Scuttle had landed upon Ariel's shoulder, somewhat awkwardly, and placed a feathery wing upon her head in an affectionate manner. "Woah Princess, we thought you were a goner!" He squawked, unable to keep himself from smiling widely.

"Its OK guys," Ariel re-assured them all, her voice soft, "I'm… I'm OK."

Before anyone else could speak, Cheeky bounded into the bedroom, his timing impeccable. He leapt straight for Ariel, making it seem that somehow, he had known all that had transpired. Instinctively, she caught the heavy cat in her arms, just as Scuttle fluttered off, a little perturbed by the feline's sudden presence.

Purring as did more often than not, Cheeky then licked Ariel's face, demonstrating his own love for her. Ariel giggled, before Belle plucked the mischievous fluff ball from her arms, and placed him upon the ground.

"Geez Cheeky, give her some room," Belle told her cat, though her voice was hardly serious in tone.

"Heh, look who's talking," Tip remarked, a smirk growing across his beak.

Belle, realising her face was still quite flushed from her and Ariel's amorous embrace, cleared her throat in a coy manner before responding: "Two words, Tip. Roast. Penguin."

The penguin's face fell. "Hey, I've told you, don't even JOKE about that!"

Ariel laughed gently, knowing Belle was anything but serious. She was then startled, as were all the others, by a sudden figure appearing in the doorway, leaning against the door's frame, their hand clutching their chest, their breathing sounding laboured.

"Papa!" Belle rushed forward upon recognising the crumpled figure. "Papa, are you OK?"

After drawing in a few deep breaths, Maurice straightened his stance. "Whew! This place is huge. I got lost three times."

Relief flooded Belle's face as she placed her arms around her father.

Ariel watched silently, across the bedroom, feeling no fear of this unknown man upon seeing Belle embrace him.

Maurice broke the hug, his eyes full of concern and confusion. "What on earth happened, Belle? You raced off so suddenly, when we were still outside, then moments later, I saw you and Gaston on the roof…"

Belle interjected quickly, not wanting to delve too deeply into an explanation. "It's OK, Papa, I'm fine," she took his hand with her trembling own, and moved back into the bedroom. "Actually… there's someone I'd like you to meet."

She stepped out of his line of sight, and Maurice's eyes grew wide as he gazed upon a young red-headed woman, surrounded by four sea creatures, two of whom he was familiar with… and Cheeky.

"Papa," Belle's voice was quiet, her eyes transfixed on whom she was introducing him to, "this is Ariel."

Ariel smiled warmly and gave a little wave. "Hi."

Maurice stared for a moment, dumbfounded. "Oh," was all he managed to say. Before thoughtlessly adding, the words leaving his mouth before he had a chance to stop them, "You… you have legs."

Belle rolled her eyes playfully, turning back to face her father. "Yes, Papa, very observant."

Before Maurice had a chance to apologise, a sudden squawk sounded in his direction. "Hey it's the old man! How are you doin'?"

It was Scuttle, having the subtlety of a cannon as always he did, fluttering enthusiastically in his direction. Maurice chuckled at the friendly seagull.

"Well hello there… haven't seen you in a while!" The old man cheerfully greeted.

"Hey, I'm here too, y'know," Sebastian spoke up, Maurice recognising the accent instantly, his eyes lowering to the approaching crustacean upon the floor.

"Oh, yes, I haven't forgotten about you either, Mr. Crab."

Dash and Tip glanced at each other. "Ummm, did I miss something?" The walrus asked, referring to Sebastian and Scuttle's familiarity with Belle's father. Tip just shrugged in response, also perplexed.

Maurice gazed up at his daughter once more, who was smiling fondly at the mermaid-girl whilst absent-mindedly stroking Cheeky, whom she had picked up during Maurice's reunion with Scuttle and Sebastian.

"Well," Maurice began somewhat loudly, ensuring he had Belle's attention before he continued, "I can see why you want to stay here."

"Huh?" Belle blinked, unprepared for that comment.

Maurice chuckled, taking a step toward his daughter. "Well, I mean, not many people have talking sea creatures on their list of friends, do they?"

Belle lowered her head, trying to hide an approaching blush. "No… I guess they don't."

Ariel could tell, by the expression on Belle's face, that there was something that Belle wished to say. She took a step forward, and placed a hand upon Belle's arm, hoping to be encouraging.

"Uhhhh…" Belle procrastinated, unsure of how to word what she desired to say to her father. Ariel knew not what Belle was about to say, either, and listened intently, as Maurice also did.

Clearing her throat once, Belle finally proceeded.

"Actually, I… I have a better idea."

Maurice frowned, confused. Belle thought it best to clarify before continuing.

"Than staying here, I mean," she shrugged lightly, momentarily averting her gaze from her father's.

Maurice seemed intrigued. "Oh?"

Belle felt Ariel's fingers entwine with hers, and she felt new confidence. Taking a deep breath, Belle faced her father once more.

"Papa… tell me, you're not all that fond of the town we live in, are you?"

* * *

As the humid amber glow of the late afternoon sun bathed her face, Ariel breathed deeply, inhaling the salty air. Her eyes were closed, her mind lost in a euphoric bliss as she felt the gentle waves lapping at her feet. She had come home.

It was now springtime; the sun's rays were warmer, the grass that swayed casually atop the nearby overlooking cliffs was a vibrant green, the blades thick and lush. The cold, stark walls of the abandoned castle and the chilled, snow-filled air of winter seemed like they existed a lifetime ago.

It had been Belle's idea… to sell her family's land and move away from the town she and her father had lived in, albeit unhappily, for many years.

As long as Maurice had a soothing setting for his work, he would be happy enough; and settings seldom come more tranquil than a lonely cottage by the sea.

In the distance, Ariel heard the whinny of their horse, Philippe. He too had relocated, with his family, to the pristine shores of this Danish beach. Cheeky had come too, of course, and Ariel guessed he was chasing flitting butterflies somewhere nearby.

Ariel sighed inwardly, unable to imagine herself any happier. _She… she's done so much for me…_

No sooner had Belle entered her thoughts, than she appeared in Ariel's peripheral vision, approaching along the pure, white sand. She was holding something to her ear; Ariel turned to see a look of concentration on her face, as if she were listening to something.

Within moments, Belle was beside her. She brought the seashell away from her ear, extended it out toward Ariel and with all seriousness, stated: "I think it's for you."

With a stifled giggle, Ariel playfully batted the shell from Belle's hand. Belle attempted to feign a look of hurt; but before long couldn't help but laugh herself.

"OK, OK," she said as she threw up her hands, "bad joke."

Ariel turned back toward the pink and orange hues of the quickly setting sun. "It sure is beautiful here, isn't it?"

Belle nodded and quietly agreed. "Yeah."

Ariel had almost become mesmerised by the blazing fire of the sinking sun reflecting upon the ocean's shimmering surface, when she heard Belle exhale a despondent-sounding sigh.

Immediately she faced Belle again. "What's wrong?"

Belle shrugged meekly, her gaze focused on the distant horizon. "It's quiet."

"Quiet?" Ariel was puzzled. "Yes, it is. It's peaceful. I love it out here…"

"I love it too," Belle was quick to interpose, not wanting to alarm Ariel. "But sometimes… when it's quiet… I mean, really quiet… silent…" She bowed her head, shutting her eyes. "I… I can still hear… I can hear his scream."

Ariel moved closer, placing a hand on Belle's shoulder. "Belle, I've already told you… what happened… it wasn't your fault."

Belle sighed again. "Even if it _wasn't_…"

"It _wasn't_!" Ariel reiterated. Her heart suddenly felt heavy; seeing Belle still carry around this guilt, this guilt she didn't deserve to be burdened with… She shut her eyes tightly, feeling anger rise. _Gaston has been dead for a couple of months now, and he __still__ has the power to make her feel miserable_.

"Belle," Ariel quietly began upon re-opening her eyes, "if what happened… if it had been the other way around, if he had stabbed _you_…" she gritted her teeth, not wanting to entertain the thought for long, "I… I know, without a doubt, I would have reacted the same way."

Finally, Belle looked at her, her eyes appearing to glaze over with tears. "Yeah… I know."

"And besides… you had no way to know whether he was… if he was going to… to get you next…"

"I know." Belle let out another sigh, a sigh that seemed to embody acceptance. "I'm sorry, Ariel. I…"

"Hey, it's OK," Ariel gently reassured. "Let's… let's just change the subject, OK?"

Belle agreed in her mind that that certainly seemed like a fine idea. "Yeah… sorry." She heard Ariel sigh in caring frustration at her repeated apologising, and quickly added: "Uhhh, I mean, so, how long until you think Sebastian will be back?"

At last, Ariel let another smile from upon her face. "From Atlantica? I don't know. I'm not even sure how far it is from here," she laughed.

"Do you think… do you think your father will be mad?"

Ariel shrugged, glancing down at the salt water slowly pushing past her ankles, and toward shore. "I don't think so. He can be strict, and he used to hate humans… but after Sebastian explains everything, I'm sure he'll just be happy that I'm safe…"

"Of course he will." Belle managed a smile, and once Ariel noticed this, she couldn't help but smile also. "I'll bet he can't wait to see you."

Tenderly linking her arm with Belle's, Ariel led her on a casual walk along the isolated beach.

"You know," she began as they ambled slowly, "I can't wait for him to meet you."

Belle's eyes grew wide. "Uhhh, your father?"

"Sure," Ariel laughed softly. "I'm sure he'll like you."

"I'm… not so sure," Belle let a nervous laugh escape. "I am human, after all."

"Well, so am I, now." Ariel gazed up at Belle, appreciation and adoration evident in her eyes. Belle felt her cheeks become hot, and she glanced away.

Ariel giggled to herself, before continuing the conversation. "I'd like to share it all with you someday, you know."

Belle snapped to attention, intrigued. "Hmmm?"

"The sea…" Ariel sighed, her smile full of fondness. "Being a mermaid… all of it."

"Oh?" Belle thought for a moment. "Well… as long as there are no tentacled creatures around. They're so squishy and sticky and… _ugh_."

Ariel laughed, her smile a playful one now. "I'm not fond of tentacles either."

"And, woah, don't even get me _started_ on the giant squids!"

Belle was laughing now too, her expression one of mock horror.

After another giggle, Ariel tightened her grip around Belle's arm and rested her head against it lovingly. The dying sun seemingly melted into the ocean far off into the distance, signalling that night was upon them—and another day had greeted its inevitable end.

But for Ariel and Belle, this was only the beginning.


	16. Extra Bit

Back in Chapter 10 our good ol' croonin' crab sang a song for the girls. This is meant as kinda a "extras/end credits" thingy. This is to the melody of "Beauty and the Beast" (as you may have figured if you read it ;)). So, just imagine Sebastian's voice singing this... and yeah. Enjoy! ^_^

* * *

**"ARIEL & BELLE"**

**The song**

Once upon a time

True as it can be

Started out as friends

But that's not where it ends

As was destiny

It didn't seem strange

How easily they fell

Both a little scared

Neither one prepared

Ariel and Belle

Never dared believe

Never such surprise

Never have before

Have they felt so sure

In another's eyes

Once upon a time

Suited perfectly

Both the sea and land

They go hand in hand

Mermaid and Beauty

Certain as their tale

Has no parallel

Once upon a time

Two worlds did combine

Ariel and Belle

Once upon a time

Two worlds did combine

Ariel and Belle

* * *

So there you go... yay my story has a theme song! Anyway, I'd like to thank all my loyal readers and reviewers. Thanks for having an open mind y'all! Sorry again this took so long. And now I'm planning to work on the sequel ;) Anyways, thanks again, see you in the Maison de Lune! Ha!


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